Something For The Pain
by Radiorox
Summary: Days before New Years Eve, Harm is lost and presumed dead leaving Mac to deal with her emotions. But, is he really gone or did something more sinister occur?
1. Relief In A Bottle

Title: Something For The Pain  
Author: Jackie  
Rating: PG-13  
Summary: Days before New Years Eve, Harm is lost and presumed dead leaving Mac to deal with her emotions. But, is he really gone or did something more sinister occur?

AN: There will be a few "dark" scenes here and there. Some of the characters won't act the same mainly because there will be a few traumatic experiences. This is an angsty piece, you are forewarned. ;)

AN2: The "times/dates" in the story will jump around a lot not sure why, it just is what it is. ;) I've tried re-writing it, but it doesn't work, so we'll have to deal! Basically there are a lot of flashbacks going on, well not a lot, there are some. It's not that difficult, just follow the times and if anything is slightly off, ignore it. LOL!

For all of you nutty people that like this sort of thing, woo hoo!! Here ya go! Enjoy!

Jackie…

Something for the pain inside me that will never die.  
The pain inside me that will never die.

My heart bleeds.  
Look at you hiding all the things to endure me.

I need you here with me.  
Breathing, wanting you to believe me

Something for the pain inside me that will never die.  
The pain inside me that will never die

I see you in all of these faces.  
Blush with shame when I think of you and your pale skin.  
I'd sell my soul for you.

Hush Hush  
never enough  
never enough

The pain inside me that will never die.  
Something for the pain inside me that will never die.

"Something For The Pain" By Zeromancer from their –Clone Your Lover- LP.......

PART 1 – Relief In A Bottle

July 1st, 2005  
0120 Zulu  
Mac's Apartment  
Georgetown

The bottle of vodka was new, shiny and so tempting. As it stood on her coffee table, it called to Mac, it's promises of placing her in another place and time without pain were hard to resist. She bit her lower lip, so much so that it bled. The coppery taste of blood filled her mouth as she swallowed hard the lump at her throat. "He's missing." Words from half a year ago reverberated in her head. "He's missing and presumed dead." Life would never be the same again. . .

December 30th, 2004  
JAG Headquarters  
Falls Church, Virginia

Happy, ecstatic, revived. So many words to describe what she had been feeling since her partner had showed up at the hospital and spent the night by her side. Christmas, after Mac was allowed to leave the hospital, he'd spent it entirely with her. Though they weren't an official couple, it had felt like it. He'd been sweet, tender, attentive, everything she wanted in a man. "You're spending New Years with me, right Mac?" He'd asked her, in that boyish, yet sexy way that only Harm could muster. It felt right then, so right and so real and yes, even a little scary. But, Mac embraced it with open arms. She was determined to make that 4 solution work for her; for them.

Harm wasn't in the office the day that General Cresswell and summoned her. He was called away to do a cross country flight for his F-18 quals and he promised he'd return on the 31st, sometime in the afternoon. But, the day before, the General changed her life forever. . .

"Mac. . .sit down." Mac? Cresswell never called her anything other than "Colonel." The moment her nickname was spoken, she felt the hairs stand up at the back of her neck. "There is no easy way to say this. . . so I won't beat around the bush. Commander Rabb is missing."

Mac blinked a few times, her head trying to wrap around the news. "Missing, sir?"

"Yes, he's missing." The normally tough Marine was being oddly gentle with her. No doubt the office scuttlebutt of Harm and Mac's closeness had arrived at his doorstep. "He went on a special CIA assignment. I don't have details, a lot is classified, but, according to what Deputy Director Kershaw said, he was flying an aircraft and it malfunctioned. He had to punch out. They haven't heard from him two days."

Mac sat there with her mouth partially open. Feelings of fear and anger overridden only by how worried she suddenly was. "I am sorry, sir. . . I don't understand. Harm, Commander Rabb was supposed to be doing a cross country qual. . . how would the CIA be involved?"

Cresswell frowned, he didn't like surprises, especially when they came in the shape of some political mess. He'd been aware of how JAG officers had been pawns for the CIA, it was something he vowed never to let happy again. Rabb had somehow gotten away from him. "I wasn't informed about his involvement until the CIA contacted me about his MIA status."

MIA Status?! Flashes of Harm Sr. and their trip to Russia sent Mac on, yet another, emotional roller coaster ride. No, the fates couldn't be so cruel to take him away from her when they had so much to discover. This wasn't happening. "Are they even looking for him?" A stupid question to ask knowing full well how the CIA didn't care who they left behind. Cresswell didn't verbally answer, he only shook his head no and shifted his gaze to a spot on the carpet. "Who authorized this?" She felt the anger burning inside, a raw, out of control anger.

"Me, Sarah." Mac stood and spun around, coming face to face with non other than Clayton Webb. "We needed his expertise."

"Mr. Webb." She regarded him in a voice full of spite and disdain. Mac hated him now not just because of his deceit, but because he willingly toyed with hers and Harm's lives in dealing with Tanveer. How could she have even tried to make herself believe she would fall for him? How could she have even shared a bed with him? The thought now disgusted her. "Whatever Commander Rabb was needed for, I am sure you have _TRAINED_ operatives to do for you." Webb visibly cringed at how sharp her words were. Though before, when they were together, he had some ways of controlling her wrath, it was evident that his powers were gone. Mac was kryptonite to his not-so-superman.

"I'm so sorry." That was all he had to say and though his face looked like that of a person who was concerned, it didn't stop Mac.

She moved towards him, stopping when they were face to face. Mac's voice was strong, tough, like those used to bark orders at insubordinates. "Damnit, I thought I was done with this cloak and dagger bullshit when you and I were through!"

Cresswell should have sparked up at Mac's outbreak, but the truth was, he wasn't fond of having officers used for anything other than JAG business. "Mr. Webb, you said you had more information on the Commander, now would be a very damn good time to hear it."

Webb looked at Cresswell then at Mac clearly realizing that neither could be manipulated or lied to. "We thought we did. . .No intel can pick him up. . . he's missing and presumed dead."

"No!" Mac yelled, breaking her stoicism. She backed up a bit, struggling to regain her composure as the air around them grew thick. "Have you sent anyone after him?"

"You know we can't."

"Damnit, Webb, he isn't CIA, he's US military. . ." She edged in, backing Webb up with each word.

"He knew the risks." The words sounded so simple to him because he believed them. It was some sort of spook-credo: don't get caught else you are screwed.

"Tell me where he went down. . .I'll find him myself." Mac barked, instantly turning back to the stoic Marine, though her emotions were threatening to crumble her. But Webb shook his head, denying her access to the sensitive information that he couldn't relay for her safety. It only angered Mac more. She threw herself at the agent, grabbing him by the lapels of his jacket. One fist connected with the side of his face breaking his nose. "Damnit, tell me where to find HARM!"

Cresswell had immediately come out from behind his desk and reached over to grab Mac. "Colonel, STAND DOWN."

"You know I can't tell you Sarah. . . You know that." Webb said as he picked himself off of the floor. He gingerly pulled out a handkerchief and placed it under his nose.

"You did this on purpose. . . You wanted him out of the way." Mac yelled at him, trying to launch herself at the spook again, but she was being held back by Cresswell.

"How could you say that! Harm was a friend." Webb defended.

"Yea. . .A friend standing in front of what you want. . ." She spat, her voice cracking slightly. Though Webb had his moments, he was a friend once, a man that she allowed into her home, her bed. A man she trusted would keep her and her best friend safe because they'd done so much for each other. Now, in the midst of everything she'd gone through, she could literally take Clayton Webb's life and not feel bad about it.

Cresswell kept a firm grasp on Mac, as he battled his own anger. One thing was war, something he was familiar with. Another thing was an irresponsible government agent, who seemed to have a plethora of screw ups under his belt, losing one of his own. " I suggest you leave Mr. Webb before I have you thrown out on your ass."

Clay didn't say anything else, he knew that any words would be received with anger. So he left JAG ops, given dirty looks by Jen, Sturgis and Bud, those that knew how things operated. Those that still hated him for endangering two of their friends.

The moment Webb stepped out of the office, Mac braced herself on the side of Cresswell's desk and sobbed. She wasn't the type to break just like that, but so many things had happened in such a short time – Webb's death, his resurrection, their break up, Tanveer, the endometriosis, Harm and her misconception of Alicia, her time in therapy, the car accident. . . Everything finally boxed her in the moment the word 'missing' came up. "Damnit. . . Damn him!!"

Cresswell backed away slowly, keeping his eyes on Mac. "You were close." He asked after several long minutes.

"Not how you think." She wiped at her tears then sank down into a chair across from the General's desk.

"Enough for you to cry over him." He offered her a sad smile. News of the Commander and the Colonel's relationship did arrive at his doorstep. But, seeing as the two litigators seemed to keep all private involvement out of his office, he really didn't care how they spent their private lives so long as work got done on a timely matter. "I think you should go home and rest."

The days after the initial news about Harm's disappearance were a whirlwind. She'd exhausted all of her connections in the CIA, Pentagon and the Hill and was no where closer to finding him. About a week later, paperwork had come in with condolences. Harmon Rabb Jr. was officially dead. The CIA claimed that his body had been found in such a bad condition that only dental records could be used to find his identity.

The JAG staff honored their fallen comrade with a beautiful service at Arlington. His mother and step father had been flown over. Though a funeral seemed to be the one definitive symbol of someone's passing, Mac was in denial. She knew too well how the CIA worked and how its members sometimes faked deaths in order to achieve a goal. So, she stood there, ramrod straight as the flag was presented to Trish Burnett, unbelieving that her beloved partner's remains were resting inside the casket.

"Mrs. Burnett." Mac called to the woman, once the service came to an end.

"You can call me Trish, Mac. . . you know you can." They'd only met twice, and Mac always felt the need to be proper with the older woman. Perhaps, if things between her and Harm had been different, she would've called her 'mom.'

Mac took a deep breath, letting it out slowly as her eyes watered. "I don't believe he is gone. . .I think he is still out there." She looked up to the skies and stared off for a moment.

"Walk with me." Trish put her arm through Mac's pulling her away from the group of people, so they could walk past the tombstones alone. "I've always lived with fear over this. Always had a feeling it could happen. I guess I anticipated it. . .Harm Senior's MIA protected me from this, that night he crashed out in the Atlantic." Trish stopped talking, taking a deep breath as she too admired the skies and the beautiful day that seemed out of place when her only son was said to be gone forever. "If you really think he is out there, I believe you. But, if time goes by and he doesn't come home, go on with your life. Promise me you'll go on with your life." They walked together towards a bench and sat down. Trish sighed, wiping away tears that were still falling.

"I can't just move on. . . I've tried before, it never works." Mac said sadly, her eyes drifting down to a spot on the ground.

Trish knew the feeling, because it was similar to what she felt over thirty years ago. She tried moving on, each time failing until the right person came along. Even then, she could never quite shake the feeling that she'd betrayed Harm senior, but it was too difficult being alone with a son that was identical to her beloved husband. Frank showed her how to love again. "I know what it's like, Mac. And I am not saying it will be easy, but you have to go on with life." She sniffled and wiped at the tears with the handkerchief Frank had given her during the service. She reached into her purse and pulled out a small box, the type that would encase a ring. "There's something I want you to have. This was mine and it was Grandma Sarah's before that. . ."

Mac took the box and slowly opened it. Inside lay a beautiful band with roses engraved around it. "I don't understand."

"Harm loved you." Trish stated simply, with conviction because she knew it was the truth.

Mac stared at the beautiful simplicity of the band, her eyes filling with tears over a man she possibly would never see again. A man that she never got to tell how much she loved him. "I know."

Trish watched Mac with interest, she'd always liked Mac in regards to Harm. The younger woman seemed to keep Harm in line and on his toes. She'd known her son had fallen in love when each and every telephone conversation would always wind up with him mentioning his partner. In fact, even when they were each with someone else, Harm never failed to find something about Mac to bring up. Trish always believed that he'd eventually ask Mac to marry him, until that fateful day when he'd called with news that she was engaged to someone else. He was happy for her, at least, that is what he said, but Trish knew her son well, inside, he was falling apart. "I don't mean a friendly type of love. . .My son was in love with you, Sarah."

"He told you that?" Mac's head snapped up, her tears falling freely and she didn't make an effort to wipe them away.

Trish smiled mischievously. "Yes. . . One night I dragged it out of him." That had to have been the most interesting conversation she'd had with her son. It had happened that year, when he'd called to ask a favor in regards to Mac. He wanted help with finding information on her medical condition and he figured that his mother would know where he could start. Somewhere in the conversation, she asked him what he felt for Mac. Ten minutes later, after a lot of motherly nagging, he said it, loud and clear. 'I'm in love with her.'

"I'm in love with him too." Mac said softly. Her fingers were slowly tracing each of the etches on the band. She felt her heart ache just a bit more. "We never. . .both of us. . . I think were too scared." She frowned thinking of all the mixed signals, missed opportunities.

"Yes, he mentioned something like that. . .On Christmas morning he called, told me about your accident and asked that I have the ring polished that he was going to fly over and pick it up." She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I believe he was working on proposing to you. . . which is why I want you to have it."

Mac glanced down at the ring as she helplessly wondered if he would have proposed during New Years Eve. That was doubtful, seeing as they had so much to work out, but they could have done something similar to her last engagement, taken it slow until the time was right. "I can't take that, Trish."

"I want you to. . . please. No one else in his life was more deserving that you." She leaned forward, wrapped her arms around Mac and held on tightly. "I really wished you two would have straightened things out, Sarah. You and him were right together."

"How could you be so sure?" Mac said with a sniffle, hating how everything now seemed so definitive when her heart wanted to believe otherwise.

"A mother knows."

Mac pulled away slowly, then glanced at the right that was in her palm. She placed it delicately in the box and gave Trish a watery smile. "Thank you."

July 1st, 2005  
0130 Zulu  
Mac's Apartment  
Georgetown

Mac gulped down the glass of water that she had gotten herself. It was similar color to the vodka, something she could use to pretend. Sadly, she tugged her dog tags out of her shirt and glanced at the ring that, since that day, rested close to her heart. "Wherever you are, I hope that you aren't mad about this, flyboy. . . I just couldn't wear it unless you put it on my finger." And she'd kept that promise to herself, though she was always tempted to see how the ring looked on her. From the way she gauged it, placing her Marine corps right next to it, the ring would fit as if it were made for her. Frowning, she stared down at the vodka bottle and shook her head fiercely. No, not tonight. Not tonight.  
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Thanks for the e-mails, harassment letters, etc on the last few stories! They've been fun to read and it's been a blast issuing the restraining orders. ;) I am kidding. :P But, really, thanks for the support, glad you guys dig my odd interpretation of writing JAG fanfiction! Maidenpride - SEE!!! A story!! Woo Hoo!! ;) - I took a bit of time away from JAG over the X-mas break, mainly because writing and getting into the show sometimes becomes too much. I like writing and when I run into a brick wall with an ideaI can't sleep until I figure it out. Hence, I needed to pull away for a bit. Hopefully, the outcome is a good read, you guys let me know. Once again, a warning that this will be a dark story, but you who know me, i usually give you an ending you can live with, don't I? Ye a little faith and buckle up, cos it will be a bumpy one. ;) Muahahahahaaaa!!!


	2. The New Partner

Thanks for the reviews gang! I am holding up in a secret location to avoid the torches, apples, pears, flamethrowers, what have you. Hope everyone has a good and safe New Years!!

Thanks to: XBlueShadowX, Aimee5, Charmboy4, starryeyes10, Nikki, dansingwolf, jag4ever, lei, Jackia, EternalSleep, Cristina, Tina Frank, achaon, Abigaile, Hieros Gamos, froggy0319.

PART 2 – The New Partner

1680 Zulu  
July 28, 2005  
JAG Headquarters  
Falls Church, Virginia

"Colonel, come on in and close the hatch." Mac did as told and stood in perfect attention just in front of Cresswell's desk. The General took a deep breath and placed his glasses on the desk in front of him. "Do you know why I called you in?"

Mac bit her tongue, hoping her newly adapted cynicism didn't cause any more problems for her. If she were moody and rash about things before, lately, everything seemed to set her off. "I assume it's because of Major Steele, sir."

"You assume correctly, Colonel."

Major Christopher Steele was the latest addition to the JAG staff and, unfortunately for Mac, was just too similar to Harm. He was a bit shorter than Harm, but had a similar build, light eyes, dark hair and that trademark flyboy smile. He was a former Hornet pilot, grounded because, unlike Harm, he was a terrible stick with a penchant for being a trouble maker (something he swore up and down he'd grown out of after being grounded.) and had a huge chip on his shoulder. To say that Mac didn't like the Major was an understatement. She hated him from the moment he first stepped into her office – without knocking - to introduce himself. And we all know how much Mac dislikes people barging into her office. . .

July 25, 2005

Mac glanced up at the Marine officer that stood casually at her desk. "Colonel MacKenzie, I'm Chris Steele, Major Chris Steele." The Major reached out his hand to her and pulled it back abruptly when Mac offered her trademark look of disgust. "Okaaay."

She chucked her pen on the desk, stood and folded her arms across her chest. "Attention!" She yelled so loudly, that even Bud, from his office, automatically came up and stood ramrod straight. With a scowl, she walked towards her door, made sure that all other JAG employees knew her beef wasn't with them and then closed it, turning to the Major. "What in the HELL gives you the right to barge into my, or anyone else's office without knocking?"

Major Steele, turned and grinned at Mac. Yep, the man was obviously had a death wish. Well, maybe not a death wish, it's just that he'd briefly run into Mac on the Henry during the time she was playing fleet JAG until they found a replacement for Singer. To say that he was infatuated was right on the money. I guess one could say that the way he acted towards Mac was more towards the likes of one Mic Brumby. "Ma'am, the General told me to walk on in and let you know that I am to be your new partner."

She felt as though she'd been slapped. Whatever she believed would happen in JAG, the thoughts of having a new partner never factored in. What was the point anyway? "Major, I do not need a _new partner_, my _old partner_ suited me just fine."

"With all due respect ma'am, I heard about what happened to the Commander. . .It's not like he's coming back or anything."

Mac stood face to face with the Major, well as much as you could with a person a few inches taller. "Whatever it is you think you know, or think you heard, is _wrong_. Now, get OUT of my office. NOW!"

"But, Ma'am, the General said to. . ."

She opened the door and pointed towards the bullpen. "I believe I said now. And unless you want your first day at JAG to be your last day, I suggest you get your six out of my office and out of my way."

As usual, the office scuttlebutt machine arrived to Cresswell who reprimanded Mac on her conversation with Major Steele. Things didn't end there though, their meeting was just the beginning of other things to come. . .

July 28, 2005

. . .Cresswell pointed to the chair behind Mac. "Sit down." He felt for her and the obvious amount of pain he knew she was still in. But, Mac was wearing his patience thin. From the time the he had announced Harm's MIA status, Mac was living on autopilot, doing things out of necessity and nothing more. Initially, she fought hard against the CIA until she was _ordered_ to back off and let Harm rest in peace. From then on, she was just numb. If the office wasn't the same when Harm was playing-spook two years prior, it was even worse knowing he was truly gone. When Spring rolled around, she visited the Wall, praying for some sign, a proof of life or even death because she had this gut feeling that the remains in Arlington were not his. Maybe he really was dead and buried in some shallow or unmarked grave. The least she could do was find out the truth of his final resting place and pay him proper respect and maybe, just maybe, bring him home.

The General would often call her into his office to 'check up' and 'make sure' she was alright. She would listen to his friendlish conversation about loss and 'moving on', a term she was sure would never apply to her. Her work never suffered, in fact, she was sharper in the courtroom, more eloquent with her speeches. But, she never smiled anymore, not for anything or anyone, - well, except the Roberts' children who she loved and cared for as if they were her own – past that, there was nothing to smile about. Office get-togethers were off of her list unless she was ordered to attend or it was something that was specifically for the Roberts' children.

"Mac." And there he was, calling her Mac again, something that was starting to irritate her. It was as if she now had three counterparts, Sarah, Mac and the Colonel. Sarah being the most vulnerable, Mac being slightly less vulnerable and the Colonel, who was just a warrior. "It's been half a year. . . I realize we have to grieve, but you need to get on with your life. . . I do not understand why you have taken this so hard. You were not the only friend the Commander had, he was well liked and all of those close to him have moved on."

"Moved on because they had who to move on with. . . They moved on because you basically _ordered_ us to." She spat back with the anger that was now coursing through her veins. It had been, roughly, a month back when the General had called in a meeting: Commander Rabb was not to be mentioned at JAG again. It wasn't an order meant with a malicious intent, he did it because he felt it would help Mac. All it did was alienate himself from the tight knit group. "Well, sir, I refuse to follow that order."

"Major Steele has told me that you all but clubbed him over the head on the investigation you were working on this morning." Cresswell was trying, really trying to be all business. In just two days Mac had managed to scare the living shit out of the Major.

Mac sighed. "Sir, the Major doesn't like following orders. I merely told him to let me do the questioning because I understand, first hand, the situation the young woman was _allegedly _going through." The investigation was that of an alleged attempt of rape on a woman about 23 years old, by a drunken sailor. Something about the case struck Mac as fishy, so her idea was to get on the woman's side and hopefully find a loophole in her story. Chris, on the other hand, was playing 'good cop, bad cop' and decided not to let her in on his approach. "He set us back and I had to waste two hours trying to pacify the woman."

"See, I do not believe that is it. . .you do not like the Major because he is Commander Rabb's replacement."

That did it. "No one could _ever_ replace Commander Rabb. And I am sick and tired of the narrow-minded approach going on in this office. . . I have a gut feeling, a strong gut feeling that he is alive and do not believe, for a second, that the Central Intelligence Agency has been forthcoming with the Navy about his whereabouts." She punched one of her fists into her open hand making her point more poignant. "Until the day I get some real evidence. . . _real evidence_, like a corpse we can actually _see_, dental records that hadn't been _tampered_ with and some _believable_ story, I will NEVER stop believing that he is alive."

The General leaned back in his chair. "A gut feeling, Colonel, doesn't mean much in the world of facts and figures. If you keep on in this. . this. . self-tortured existence, I will recommend that your status in the US Marine Corps be terminated."

"If that is what you feel is needed, _sir_, then go ahead. . . It'll free up my time and seeing as I would no longer be linked to _any_ military or government branch, it'll allow me to search for the Commander, something that was denied in January."

Cresswell had no reason not to believe Mac, though work was not suffering, he knew she was waiting for a reason, even a breadcrumb, to go after him. In fact, he was surprised she hadn't gone UA in some sort of suicide mission. He figured, the reason she hadn't was lack of intel. "I am curious, how would you find him?"

"I found him once, sir. I can find him again." Only, she couldn't find him, which was the reason for the recent influx in sleepless nights. She tried everything possible to reach out to him like she did once before and got nothing. Maybe she wasn't trying hard enough, maybe she was too tired, maybe the last time was just dumb luck. . . Maybe he really was gone. But, that didn't mean she would stop believing.

Cresswell sighed deeply, Mac was going to be the death of him. "Let's just stop for a moment. . . You are a damn good Marine and I don't want to see your career go down the drain because of something you can get over."

"With all due respect, sir, a good Marine wouldn't leave a man behind and that is what we are doing."

He knew that the battle would never be won, so he had to find another route. "Colonel, I order you to _try_ and get along with Major Steele, you do not have to be best friends with the man, just deal with him like an adult, can you do that?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good, dismissed."

Mac stood at attention. "Aye, aye, sir." She executed a perfect about-face and headed towards her office. Not more than an hour later, she was pulled from the case and a stack of reports appeared on her desk. It was Cresswell's punishment. One that she knew she brought onto herself. So she sat there, writing away. Looking up, Mac saw the Major and General having some sort of conversation out in the bullpen. She watched them for a long moment, both engrossed in what seemed to be a serious conversation. With a shrug she ignored the two men and went back to work on the reports.

0430 Zulu  
Mac's Apartment  
Georgetown

It was nearing midnight when she finished the last report and once done, she headed straight home, needing for some serious downtime, specifically: a hot bath and a warm bed. What she got, was a visitor: Clayton Webb.

"How are you holding up?" He asked as he followed her into the apartment.

"What do you want, Webb?" Ever since their break up and his involvement in her current situation, Webb was really not one of her favorite people to have around. Since Harm's disappearance, he had a habit of stopping by, unannounced. She really should have read more into it, but she figured it was his way of trying to pacify things between them.

Clay glanced at her frowning at her obvious dislike of him. "Look, can't we just bury the hatchet? Be friends?"

"Oh, sure. . .I'd _love_ to bury the hatchet – right into your back where it belongs." She headed into the kitchen, grabbed a bottled water and walked out to find the agent glancing at the vodka bottle. "I am fine, life is good. Now, unless you have some pertinent information, get out."

He looked between her and the bottle, frowning that some of its contents seemed to be missing. "What's this?"

"What does it look like?" She spat back, then softened slightly, realizing she was being a bit brazen. "Don't worry, I didn't have any."

But, Clay really wasn't worried about her drinking habits, he was more concerned that Mac seemed to care more for Harm than him. During the roller coaster ride that was their relationship, she never bought a bottle of liquor, she didn't even seem to mind much that they were arguing more than they were doing anything else. "Did you automatically buy liquor when I went missing?"

"Ah, so that's the problem. You hate that I grieve more for him than I did you?"

"Honestly, yes, considering you and I had something and he and you had noth. . ."

"_Something_. . .Harm and I had something that you could _never_ understand." They bearly understood it. She downed half of the water bottle and placed the remainder on the coffee table next to the vodka. "Why are you really here?"

"I heard about you poking around, Sarah. . . you have to stop."

She really wasn't 'poking around' just keeping options open, checking in with friends she'd made in the agency, people who might find out exactly what happened. "I just want to find something to put me more at ease."

"Go to Arlington, _that_ should put you at ease." He walked over to her. "I mean it, back away from this whole thing with Harm. There are things you can't know. Damnit, there are things _I_ don't know. . . back away."

Mac nodded. "Okay, under one condition – tell me exactly what happened. Is he alive or not?"

"Sarah, you know I can't tell you anything, that's just how it has to be."

Mac came around him, headed towards the door and opened it. "Well, then we have nothing to discuss, good evening Mr. Webb."

Clay headed out the door, but stopped before crossing the threshold. "Something happened, okay. Something big and bad. . . let it go."

"Goodbye." She shoved him the rest of the way out, slammed the door and proceeded on dead bolting it. The fact that every time she asked a direct question which was never answered, got her mind reeling again. "I really must be stirring something up." She said out loud, conceding that it would make sense as to why people were keeping tabs on her. "Good." With a satisfied smirk, she headed towards the bathroom.  
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froggy0319- Nothing happened to me, just taking a vacation off of JAG for a while. Needed the break. ;)

XBlueShadowX- Gimme a break, dood! I am playing catch up on stories I haven't read! Pssst. X-mas passed! Are they in paris yet? ;)

Aimee5- It is very emotinal, a bit dark. . .It's emotional and dark! A new concept! Ha!

Charmboy4- Don't feel TOO bad for Mac, she'll be okay, she's a Marine!

Nikki - Aha!! I have turned someone into liking angst!! Pigs are now flying!! WOo Hoo! Yep, I need help. LOL!

dansingwolf - I don;t wanna be a doll!! Damnit!! But I'll try to hurry up. :D

jag4ever - Happy endings will be considered!

lei - No crying!!! Marines don't cry!! Okay, well ::hands over the puffs:: go ahead and cry!

Jackia - Anytime Webb gets decked it's a good thing. :)

Cristina - You're crying too?! I am with you on the punching in other places. Castration would be better though. Muahaha. ;)

Tina Frank- You should e-mail me, we can compare notes. :) radiorox(at)bellsouth(dot)net

achaon- Wuuuuss!! C'mon!! Read it, read it, read it!! Okay, fine, don't read it. ::sniffles::: I'll live. ;)

Hieros - Woah, then who the hell is in my bed. oO

froggy - I am around, just needed a break. It'll be bumpy and you'll hate me, but, oh well. ;) I'll deal. ;)


	3. Happy Birthday Mac

Thanks to: XBlueShadowX, Aimee5, Charmboy4, starryeyes10, Nikki, dansingwolf, jag4ever, lei, Jackia, EternalSleep, Cristina, Tina Frank, achaon, Abigaile, Hieros Gamos, froggy0319, joanoa, JadeAlmasy, SpaceMan546, dansingwolf, and anyone else I missed for the Feedback..

Next Installment should be Tuesday Night sometime. :)

PART 3 – Happy Birthday Mac

July 3, 2005  
1945 Zulu  
Mac's Apartment  
Georgetown

It was a beautiful Saturday, too beautiful to be wasted, but Mac wasn't in the mood to go out. She was never in the mood for anything anymore. The day before, the JAG staff had thrown her a party for her birthday and though she was all smiles during the party, the moment she got home, she fell into that familiar loneliness that nothing could ease. She stared down at a cupcake that little AJ had made specifically for her and frowned. "Happy Birthday Mac." Her voice said bitterly. Grabbing the sweet, she headed towards her balcony, sitting there to watch the sunset. Mac closed her eyes tightly, letting the warmth beam down into her hoping it would warm her inside, but it never did. Sarah MacKenzie had been cold and empty since he disappeared. She had become a recluse. In the evenings she retrograded back to sitting in the dark. On the weekends, she would go for her usual run and then spend the rest of it working on her bones. It was a slow, boring existence, until she bought the bottle of Vodka.

It wasn't an intentional purchase; she didn't go out with the thoughts of getting plastered. But, one day, just one day, as she headed to McMurphy's, she'd taken a whiff of her client's madras, a drink made out of vodka, cranberry and orange juice. That heavy scent of liquor called to her and before she knew it, the bottle was sitting on her coffee table, calling to her. Mac couldn't tell you when she bought it, where she bought it or even how much she spent on it. All she remembered was waking up one Saturday morning and it was just _there._ It was almost a game, something to distract her from thinking about Harm. The bottle would sit there and she would wrestle with whether or not to open it. And one night, the bottle won.

Mac grasped the glass bottle of Absolut. _'Click.' 'Click.' 'Click.' 'Click.' 'Click.' _Slowly the top came away from it's seal allowing for the strong smell to escape and taint the air. She took a long whiff, closing her eyes as her senses savored the liquor. Taking a small glass, she poured it in, watching with interest as a long lost friend came back into her life. Had it really been six years?

She did take a sip that day, but quickly ran to the kitchen and spit it out, then dumped the contents of the glass and proceeded to screw the top back on the bottle. Mac was going to throw it away, she swore she was, but something told her not to, that she would need it eventually. Now, four months later, she was still tempting herself with the bottle, but she'd never taken a sip since. She wondered how long it would take before it would win again.

In a way, maybe it was a good thing that they'd never loved each other intimately. Mac wasn't so sure she would have survived had they had any type of vows between them only to have him disappear. Yet, as she sat there, glancing down at the people on the streets below, she couldn't help but feel like a wife of one of the fallen.

Every Monday morning for the last five months she'd been visiting Lt. Commander Vera McCool. The conversation was painful, heartfelt, sometimes about Harm, sometimes not. It helped. . .some. But, other days it just made her hurt even more. This Monday was perhaps the hardest, she wasn't sure why, but it probably had to do with her birthday being so near and this being the third time in their 10 year history, that Harm wouldn't celebrate it with her. . .

June 27, 2005  
1320 Zulu  
Lt. Commander McCool's Office  
Bethesda Naval Hospital  
Bethesda, Maryland

"So, your birthday is coming up." Dr. McCool began with a smile. Birthdays usually were a good thing and since the JAG crew was close, she imagined them to be holding some sort of party for Mac. "Are you going to do something?"

Mac stood by the window, watching the hard summer rain pounding the streets outside. Though before she used to dislike the heavy weather, lately, it was a friend that seemed to fit her mood. "Yes, try to forget about it."

"What if your friends want to celebrate it?"

"It's not my favorite day of the year. . . my mother left my father and I on my fifteenth birthday and. . ever since, I don't care for them much."

Dr. McCool studied Mac's posture for a moment, yes she was sad, depressed even, but sometimes, there was an anguish that the doctor wasn't sure would ever leave the Marine. "So what do you feel about THIS birthday in particular." She was probing and knew what was about to come. Unfortunately, she'd long since realized that Sarah MacKenzie was one of those people that just wouldn't get better. Those that wouldn't let themselves be healed, saved, what have you. Still, talking about it was good for Mac, which is why the good doctor kept the sessions alive.

Mac turned and took a seat in front of the large desk. "Other than feeling older?" She said sarcastically, though her antagonism against Dr. McCool had faded, Mac found that she couldn't help but being sarcastic, snarky or defensive; it was an amour, a security blanket.

"Yes."

She took her cover and strangled it. "Hopeless, hurt. . .sad."

"Because of Harm."

"Yes." Mac sighed deeply, his name cut straight through her. She felt the tears start to well up, but, this time, she managed to keep them in check. "We usually did something nice on our birthdays. . . Well, cept twice."

"That would be when he was working for the CIA and when he changed his designator." Dr. McCool was very well versed on the Harm and Mac thing. In fact, she had stopped writing things down during the session and preferred to tape them and later put the finer points on paper. So much was said that she didn't want to miss out on something that could help Mac. "So go to Arlington and sit with him a while."

"No!" Mac yelled, standing up and moving away from the chair as if it had burned her. "I refuse to go down there."

_This_ was the problem Dr. McCool kept having with the Marine, the unsubstantiated belief that Harmon Rabb was still alive. Dr. McCool had looked into records, using all of her security clearance and found that the Commander was, indeed, buried at Arlington. Though, she was often reminded by Mac of Webb's death and resurrection, the Navy was certain that the coffin contained Harm's remains. "Sarah, you and I have been going in circles for months. . . Go and see him."

"No." She shook her head forcefully, retreating towards the sofa at the other end of the room. "If I go that means I believe he is gone and. . . and." That was it, the total breaking point. Mac broke down, harder than she had in her life. She sank down into the sofa, shivering as raw emotion washed over her. "I never told him what I felt. . . I mean, we'd made plans for New Years and I swore that the New Year would start with us together, as a couple."

Dr. McCool, by this time, had joined Mac on the sofa. Her hand moved up and down Mac's back, soothingly. "This is what has been bothering you the most, then." Of all of the things they'd discussed, Mac had never brought forth that piece of information. "You can't blame yourself, Sarah."

"I should have told him long ago that I loved him. . .Maybe, just maybe we would have stopped this stupid dance." She brushed away the tears and took a deep shaky breath. "I just, hope, for his sake that he really is dead and not in some camp or traveling through friggin Siberia." And that is what she feared the most, the horror of having to live 'x' amount of years as a prisoner of war. She remembered Russia too damned well and the bits and pieces of information they'd managed to piece together since Harm was on trial for murder way back when. Death, she believed, was better than that existence of knowing you'd never see your family again. . .

July 3, 2005  
1950 Zulu  
Mac's Apartment  
Georgetown

Mac wiped at the tears and leaned against the railing of her balcony. The sun would be gone soon and then the _fun_ would start. The vodka was just inside, waiting, calling to her. It would be just so damn easy to take a sip, just one sip and forget for a few hours. It was the weekend, after all, she still had a day to sober up. She headed inside, grabbed a glass she had set up just next to the bottle and poured the clear liquid in. It sloshed in the glass, temping her yet again. Standing, she headed out towards the balcony, leaning against it as she contemplated, for the millionth time, succumbing to alcoholic tendencies again. Harm would be furious with her, she knew that, but the pain was just too much. Half a year was just too much especially when they were both in the position to let go, to figure out how to make them work. "Screw it." She brought the glass up to her lips, but before she had a chance to take a sip, a forceful knock brought her out of her reverie. The glass fell from her hand, smashing as it hit the brick on her balcony. "Damnit!" Groaning, she straightened and headed towards the front door. "Please _do not_ let it be anyone trying to cheer me up. . ." She said under her breath and paused slightly when she glanced through the peephole.

The person on the other side was male, with longish, dark brown hair and a very scruffy, non-maintained mustache an beard. He was wearing old, tattered clothing: a dirty hooded sweatshirt and a pair of filthy blue jeans. He had to be sweating profusely wearing a sweatshirt in the summer. Immediately, she put the chain on her door and opened up slightly, enough to see what the person wanted. "Can I help you?"

The man on the other side wavered slightly. When he glanced up at her and Mac saw a raw look of relief in his eyes. _His_ blue eyes. "Mac. . ."  
----

Yes, I made Mac a Cancer (fits her mood, I should know I am one ;)) and gave her my b-day too LOL!  
---  
Lissie - Intense, yes! Dark and Intense. There might be a happy ending ;)

joanoa - Mac's tried using her connection with him but it didn't work, you'll find out why eventually. ;)

Nikki - Clayton's an ass that's his problem!

Abigalie - Yea, but she's strong!

Achaon - LOL!!! Yay!!! Hey, I am not that evil!! I do happy endings for a good part of my stories, I just like the ride to be bumpy, without seatbelts and preferably at a 90 degree angle before we get there. ;)

Aimee - Woo Hoo! Another person into Decking Webb, I take he aint' well liked. ;)

Tina - I like yours!! I hope you're writing mroe to it!!

Hieros - Well, don't miss him too much. ;)

Froggy - Yep, she should have but I don't want Mac to break her fist. :) Seeing as Clay is hardheaded ;)

Charmboy - Evil is good! I know, the Evil medical school taught me so! ;) Mac and Webb and a sparring ring. ;)Preferably with Webb chained to soemthing and Mac having her fists tied with strips dipped in resin and then rolled over shards of glass. Hmmm bloody mess comes to mind. ;)

Jade - I could too have killed him!!! I am evil!! Muahahaaa!!! Okay, maybe I didn't kill him, you'll just have toe wait and see. :P

Jtbwriter - Odious Little Weasle, I assume that's not Harm right? ;) Oh, you mean Webb. Well, it's okay, the readers are gonna go a-huntin' for the weasle it's all good! :)

Jackia - I guess mac's trying not to go off the deep end since people expect her to. Dunno, I would have stuck Webb in some torture device by now.

Spaceman - Glad you dig it!

Dansingwolf - (Love that name BTW) Mac and harm will be weepy occasionaly, but I am not making htem cry because the sky is blue, nor amI goign overly lovey. Webb has his moments, I never dug his character because he puts them in more trouble. Harm asks for a favor and the next episode Webb has them goign into an embassy with some psycho weilding a chemical weapon. With friends like that, who needs enemas? :P If I were Harm or Mac I'd be leary of how Webb choses to have them repay the "help." Now, when the whole Webb/Mac thing started, he's been on my shitlist and is staying there. I like using him though, he's a great villian to use. ;)


	4. Torture Or Treason?

Thanks to: XBlueShadowX, Aimee5, Charmboy4, starryeyes10, Nikki, dansingwolf, jag4ever, lei, Jackia, EternalSleep, Cristina, Tina Frank, achaon, Abigaile, Hieros Gamos, froggy0319, joanoa, JadeAlmasy, SpaceMan546, dansingwolf, carbygirl , JAGJenni, Manda, starryeyes, BiteBeccy, ng59678, LtColDevilDog, martini, mizukimarr, jtbwriter, Macaroon, Lissie, and anyone else I missed for the Feedback..  
Enjoy gang!

PS: 70 percent chance that a sequel will be doable!

PART 4 – Torture Or Treason?

July 3, 2005  
1955 Zulu  
Mac's Apartment  
Georgetown

Mac felt the wind rush out of her. So many months believing he was still alive and now. . . was her mind playing tricks on her? Was someone partaking in some sick cruel joke? "Mac, it's me. . .it's Harm." Even if she doubted, his voice, one that she knew anywhere, made her believe.

"Oh my God." She reached out, practically pulling him into her apartment and wrapped her arms around him. Mac held him tight, weeping tears of joy. Her body shook from the emotion. "You're alive."

"Barely. . ." Harm's voice hitched as he spoke. He'd taken such a physical and emotional toll to get to this destination that it was becoming difficult standing up anymore. His legs were shaking so much that his body started leaning into Mac more, making her take on his body weight.

"Harm?" She noticed a wince as she ran her hands up and down his back soothingly. Then, his body started to sink against hers. Mac helped him over to her sofa and took a good look at him. He looked physically drained, there were blood spots on his clothing. His lips were dry and cracked and there was some dry blood on his forehead where she noticed a small gash. His eyes, that once were alive and expressive, had the light in them all but extinguished. As her hands moved down his torso, she felt an absence of muscles that would've normally been on his body. "You need to go to the hospital."

Harm shook his head fiercely, his tired body coming alive. "No. . . No hospitals!" He cried out before shrinking into the corner of the sofa, completely petrified.

Mac nodded. "It's okay Harm. . . I promise, no hospitals. . . but we. . ." She was going to suggest a private doctor; someone that could nurse his wounds when she heard a knock at the door. Harm seemed to be frightened of the sound and watched, helplessly as she headed towards the door and looked out of the peephole. "Shit." Mac didn't know why, but a gut feeling told her that Harm was being hunted and not by the usual 'bad guys' but by their own government. She hurried across the living room, helped stand Harm up and led him into her bedroom. She sat him on the bed and motioned for him to be quiet. "You need to stay in here and be quiet okay?" The banging on the door became more insistent and Mac headed out of her bedroom, closing the bedroom door as she headed to open the front door. "Webb, what is it now?"

Clay glanced into her apartment, seemingly in search of something, or more specifically, _someone_. "Nothing. . . I just wanted to see how you were." He lied and pushed his way into her apartment, using a force that he was afraid to use on Mac before. He had an agenda.

"Busy. . . You can go now." She left the door open and stood right next to it, hoping he would get the hint that he wasn't wanted or needed in her home. "I mean it Clay, I am tired and want to be alone."

"It's your birthday, Sarah." He set a small box on the coffee table, next to the open bottle of vodka. "Open it."

In the bedroom, Harm sat on the edge of the bed, slowly taking in his surroundings. His hands were stuffed deep in the sweatshirt pockets, fingering the only savior he'd had during the whole ordeal. Outside, he heard Mac and Webb talking. A bit of jealousy and anger coursed through him. Did she return to the spook after he'd spent so many months missing? He took the items from his pocket and sat on the floor in front of the night table. He pulled out the lower drawer, reached his hand in towards the back and then downward, under the table. He placed the items there and then closed the drawer knowing no one would find them, or, at least, hoping Mac wouldn't. With a heave, he brought himself up, wavering slightly as was hit with a slight bit of vertigo. He waited for the sensation to pass then began disrobing. Harm needed a shower, badly. He needed to feel clean, to get rid of the caked blood on his body.

Mac stared at the small box, only mildly curious as to why a man, which she has repeatedly thrown out of her house for the past six months, would bother buying her a present. "Webb, we are through, we've been through for a long time, I don't want any gifts from you." She took the box and handed it back to him, not even bother to opening it up and see what was in side. "Please, get it through your head, I don't want anything from you . . Now, get out, before I use my initiative and throw you out." Mac would have succeeded in getting the spook out of her home if it wasn't for a muffled, groaning sound coming from her room. The groans were accompanied by a muffled sob and the sounds of water running. Immediately, she sprung to action. She saw the trail of clothing on the floor, leading towards the bathroom.

Harm was in the shower, curtain drawn, hot water pouring onto his mangled body, leaving a trail of bloody water towards the drain. He sat on the floor of the shower, crying, hurting over the pain that the water was inflicting on the wounds on his body. A shower had seemed like a good idea at the time. He needed it to cleanse himself, to feel like a whole man again. But, the moment the stream hit his face, he wasn't home anymore, he was back in his prison. . . back in hell. They'd used water against him once or twice, pushing his head into a basin full with mucky, algae and larvae infested water. He tried hard not to inhale it, to stop his lungs from taking their natural breath once the nitrogen had filled his veins, but he couldn't. He'd vomited the disgusting liquid, only to be pushed back into it. They weren't planning on being merciful, that wasn't part of the gig if you were into the torture thing, but, when his body gave up and passed out, he was given reprieve for the moment.

Now, as he sat in Mac's bathtub, being pelted with the warm water, it was coming back to him in painful, pitiful flashbacks that were engraved into him permanently. He'd be scarred for life. "No. . .don't do this." He cried, curling into a ball and rocking back and forth which is how Mac found him.

"Harm. . ." She turned the water off and sat at the edge of the tub, ignoring his nakedness and the fact that she'd always been curious to see him just like that. Gingerly, she brought her hand to his head, brushing away the long hair that the water had plastered to his face. "Get me a towel." She said, turning to Clay who stood there with a look of horror on his face. "I said, get me a towel." With a sigh, she slid herself into the tub and wrapped Harm up in her arms, rocking him gently as a mother would a child. "It's okay. . . shhh. . . I'm here, I promise I won't let them hurt you. . .shhh." Taking the towel that Clay had brought, she wrapped Harm up as best she could and proceeded to coax him into standing and heading towards the bedroom.

Webb was slightly put off at having to see another naked man, but after a few stern looks from Mac, he helped get Harm settled in her bed and tucked in with the sheets and blankets. "You need to go to the hospital, Harm."

"No hospitals, no doctors. . .Nothing." Harm managed to say as his teeth rattled. His body was going into shock, something that he'd managed to fend off until he reached safety. Now, he was shutting down, falling into a deep sleep that his body craved so much.

"It's okay, Harm. . . No doctors, no hospital." Mac said, her hand soothingly running over his forehead. He was running a temperature. "Webb go to the living room and wait there." She waited as the agent stepped away from the two of them, and then sat by Harm. "Are you going to be okay by yourself for a little while?"

"I'm tired." He said in a monotone, his eyes were starting to close by themselves.

"Okay, rest then, I'm going to go get rid of Webb."

She went to move away, but was startled when a strong hand wrapped around her wrist. Harm pulled her towards him. "Don't let them take me." He whispered with a frightened look in his eyes. "Please, don't let them take me."

Mac gently removed his hand from her wrist. "I won't . . . just rest, you're safe here."

Only when Harm's body sank back into the bed, did she leave the bedroom. And, even then, she left the door ajar, just in case he needed her. When she stepped outside, she saw Clay pacing the living room, cell phone in hand. It made sense now, all of the visits, the phone calls, the way he was annoying the hell out of her. He had an agenda; he was waiting for Harm to come to her. "Who were you calling Webb?" She was tempted, so tempted to throttle him, pound him into a bloody pulp, leaving him with only inches to spare on his life.

Clay snapped the phone shut and shoved it into his breast pocket. "No one, _they_ called _me_."

"About what?" Her fist were balled and resting at her sides, her finger nails biting into the palms of her hands as she tried to make the anger stop.

"All this is classified." He scrubbed a hand over his face then plopped down on her sofa. "Harm's partner was found, shot by Harm's own handgun. . ."

"Harm didn't do it." She said automatically knowing; full well, Harm wasn't one of _them_ he wasn't a cold blooded killer.

"How do you know that?" Clay spat back. Regardless of what people knew about their close friends, he'd seen good men turn bad. Sometimes, they were brainwashed, sometimes it was just pure survival and, Clay believed, Harm wasn't above crossing over.

Still, Mac stood her ground, the man in the other room wouldn't, couldn't do something like what Clay was implying. "Because I _know_ him. . . And I trust him with my life."

"You may have _known_ him Sarah, but _that _in there is not Harm."

Okay, so he was right on that. Whoever was in her room, wasn't Harm, just a shell of what he used to be. "What did they do to him?"

"Why do you assume someone did something to him?"

"Go and take a good look at him! People don't just _get_ that way out of the blue. . . Tell me what happened!"

"I don't think you really want to know."

Mac sat on the chair across from the coffee table, keeping a safe distance from her and Webb. She took a breath; one deep, calming breath. "It's obvious you've been lying to me all along, Webb. . . All of the calls, the visits. . . You _knew_ he'd come here eventually." She leaned forward in the chair. "Please, if you ever cared for me, tell me the truth."

The truth, she and Harm always wanted the truth no matter how badly it all sounded. Clay was sure she didn't want to know the whole truth, hell, he was still trying to digest it. He took a deep breath and repeated the same thing he'd been told, something he wasn't too sure he believed. "The agency happens to think that he turned. . . went rogue, whatever you want to call it."

"The Agency's on crack."

He nodded. "Maybe, but it doesn't look good." He shifted uncomfortably on the sofa. "You were right, I was sent here to keep tabs on you. Because I knew he'd come to you before going anywhere else. . . But, I am not following some agenda, I came here because he is important to you and I want to help."

"Help? _NOW?_ After all of these months?"

"We weren't sure he was a alive, Sarah. . ." He moved forward, placing his elbows on his knees, keeping his hands crossed in front of him. "And even if I did know, I couldn't tell you. It's all. . ."

"Classified, yea yea, save me the bullshit." She rolled her eyes, shaking her head from side to side. The word classified, was not part of her vocabulary anymore. She loathed the word and all of the negative undertones it carried. Harm was her friend, her close friend and classified just did not cut it. "So where's he been?"

He tapped the arm of her sofa, nervously contemplating whether to tell Mac the truth or not. They'd have his head if the agency knew what he was up to. Clay glanced towards the open door of her bedroom. He knew Harm would tell her eventually, there was no point in withholding information. "Ever hear of a plane called the Aurora?"

Mac nodded. "It's a hypersonic spy plane which supposedly doesn't exis. . ." She trailed off suddenly, catching the amused expression on Webb's face. She turned towards her bedroom and then glanced back at the agent. _Classified Information. _"He knows how to fly it doesn't he?"

"Yes, and he's the best pilot we had. . .until that stupid stunt with the C-130. . . Anyway, we needed him to help train two new pilots. It was just a small run, up to Northernmost Canada, then down to South American and back to base. . .except that the planes. .just . . . went off the radar. They disappeared."

"_Planes_? You mean you have more than one?" So that's what he was doing when Harm was _flying _for the CIA. She couldn't help the small smirk that appeared on her face thinking that Harm was probably in Heaven, literally, over flying the Aurora.

"We _had_ two. . ." Clay said, putting emphasis on the implication that they were no longer in the CIA's possession.

In a flash, Mac visualized Harm's past disasters: their crash in Paraguay, the time he dumped the F-14 the night before her wedding, the ramp strike, them being shot down over Russia. True, they were just a handful of examples considering that he probably had hundreds of exemplary flights under his belt. Mac felt a bit ashamed that the first thing she recalled was his problems with planes, but this was Harm we were talking about, trouble and he were synonymous. "He crashed them both?" It was even slightly comical. Mean, but, comical.

Exasperated, Clay threw his arms up in the air and stood up to resume pacing her living room. "We don't know what happened. . . One minute we are tracking the planes as they headed over Canada. The next thing we know, they disappear. Two months ago a farmer found his partner's body buried in a shallow grave with Harm's gun. We have no clue what happened to the other two members of the team. This is why I need to speak to him."

"Not now."

He stopped his pacing and stared down at Mac. "When Sarah? This isn't a game. . . I need to find out what he knows and what he did. And how the hell Andy Watson wound up shot with Harm's gun."

"Clay, just give him a few days. . . You saw him; he isn't in any shape to start recalling whatever happened to him."

He slid down onto the coffee table and sat as close as he could to Mac. "And what if he turned, Sarah? What if he sabotaged them, what if someone got to him. What then?"

Mac looked down and closed her eyes. Harm couldn't have turned, he had too much pride to do that to his country, his friends, to her. "If he turned . . .I. . ." She didn't want to think about the possibilities and got an unexplained pain in her chest just thinking about Harm going to the dark side. "Just give me time to talk to him, please."

"Okay." Clay said, followed by a deep sigh. "Okay, I'll give you until Monday."

It had been over a year since she'd felt anything but hatred and contempt for Webb. She wasn't going to fall back into his arms or anything. But, at least, some of the tension between them died down. Still, she kept on her toes, knowing full well that he was capable of trickery. She closed the door behind him, and then headed towards the balcony, waiting for his car to drive off. Once it did, she headed into her bedroom with a glass of water and aspirin.

Harm was out cold, sleeping deeply wrapped up in her covers. She turned on the bedside lamp and sat next to him on the bed. Unwrapping him slightly, she saw the marks on his chest. There were cigarette and cigar burns. There were marks like those on Clay's torso from the steel wool connected to car batteries. There was a gash on his forehead and things that appeared to be tracks on his forearms, the type junkies sported. Turning him slightly, she saw the blood on her sheets that had seeped from the blankets that were covering his back. She gingerly pulled back the blanket and saw, what appeared to be whip marks sprawled across his back. "Oh God. . .why did they do this to you?"

Mac felt a wild, ravenous anger building inside of her. The Agency _could not_ be right. People who turned wouldn't be in Harm's shape. They weren't tortured and hurt. No, people that turned would be the ones _doing _the torture on others. Tears welled up in her eyes at the thought of how much pain he had, no doubt, gone through. "I'm so sorry." She said in a soft voice as her hand traced his facial features. His lips were so dry and cracked. His hair, now a little past jaw length, was dirty and greasy. He was running a high fever. Mac's hand shook as she reached over and took the cordless phone from her bedside table. Someone needed to help him and there was only one person that she really could trust without involving their close friends. "Hi. . .it's Mac. . .I need your help, can you come over? It's. . . it's important." Her own voice scared her. She never sounded so desperate or helpless before. "Thank you." She spoke into the phone then placed the cordless back on its base.  
--

JAGJenni – And I am looking forward to updating!! :)

Manda – Yea, I sorta like cliffhangers. I am mean! ;)

carbygirl – trying not to let you guys hang too long!

Froggy – But you LIKE it when I am evil. LOL!!

Lei – Don't scream! I have a few people threatening to scream! Please don't!

Aimee – Random dude? Noooooooooooo!!! Harm may see the bottle, but he has a few 'things' to work out first. ;)

Bite Beccy – Thanks for the warning!! Yet another person to add to the list of people willing to mangle poor lil ol me ::puts that whole innocent act on::

Jackia – Actually, at the moment it's Mac to the rescue. ;)

Cristina – Webb might get his yet! I have two scenarios going on gotta figure which one I want to use on Webb.

Ng – Thanks!! I actually think some of my stories are a bit too far out, but I don't want them to sit on the PC forever. About her new partner, well, we (if not Mac) are going to hate him more than you know. ;) Oooooooh yes.

LtColDevilDog – You're crying too?! Marines DON'T CRY!!!

Nikki – It's Tuesday!!  
Dansingwolf – Neither of them will be "okay" in seconds. She's going to be strong but a breaking point will happen. As for Clay, he is being used and knows it. You'll see what I mean in chappies to come. ;)

Jade – I am not THAT devious. ;)

Charmboy – Makes you wonder what happened to get him all gritty. It's a necessity for the moment to use as a shipperish part coming up soon.

Heiros – It's HARMY!!! Dirty Harmy but Harmy non-the-less. Clean him up, shave him and slap them dresswhites and goldwings ;)

Mizukimarr – 1- Stop the heavy medication, you are freaking out on me here. 2- I am a DAUGHTER of a bitch not a son of a bitch seeing as I am female, 3- Not a bastard, my folks love me very much. At least, I pay them enough for them to. ;)

Jtbwriter – Webb weasel has his moments, but don't hold your breath for him! You jus tnever know with the spookboy.

Macaroon – Maj. Steele will not just be disliked, he will be hated, mark my words on that. Mac will still be strong during this episode, or try to be but something's might bring her to the breaking point. That bottle IS still in her place, one never knows.


	5. A Wolf In Marine Clothing

Hey gang!! A bit of an early posting again today. I am sitting around, waiting for the cable dood to drop by and started working on the story. I figure, an early posting was in order. Don't you think? Of course you do! So far, of all of the stories I've written, the name of this chapter is my favourite. Came out of the blue as I was fishing around for something else and it just stuck. WOuld make a kick ass name for an episode title.

It's kinda funny, I keep wondering why people keep asking who Mac called. Well, DUH, you guys haven't seen who it was. Yes, I have airheaded moments. :P And you know Mac's NEW partner? Well, you'll be hating him a bit more. ;) More at the bottom.

Thanks to: XBlueShadowX, Aimee5, Charmboy4, starryeyes10, Nikki, dansingwolf, jag4ever, lei, Jackia, EternalSleep, Cristina, Tina Frank, achaon, Abigaile, Hieros Gamos, froggy0319, joanoa, JadeAlmasy, SpaceMan546, dansingwolf, carbygirl , JAGJenni, Manda, starryeyes, BiteBeccy, ng59678, LtColDevilDog, martini, mizukimarr, jtbwriter, Macaroon, Lissie, n.k, and anyone else I missed for the Feedback..  
Enjoy gang!

PART 5 – A Wolf In Marine Clothing  
July 3, 2005  
2100 Zulu  
Mac's Apartment  
Georgetown

Mac had been alternating between pacing and watching over Harm. He was there. He was alive. And Mac was feeling a myriad of emotions: elation, sadness, anger, hope and betrayal. Thoughtfully, she chewed on her lower lip. Classified information was just that and it was possible when he was called in just before New Years, that he didn't know it would turn out to be a CIA mission. At least, she hope he didn't know because Mac wasn't so sure she could take Harm lying to her about his whereabouts. Though her relationship with Webb would have crumbled sooner or later, she knew that most of their demise rested on his work and the 'need to know' bullshit that he would feed her. That was something she hoped to avoid altogether with Harm; despite their occasional involvement with the agency.

Leaning against the frame of her bedroom door, she watched the fitful sleep. She wanted to shake him out of it, but was afraid of what would happen; of what demon she'd summon. One thing she was relieved about: he was alive. They wouldn't have to wonder anymore. Well, she wouldn't have to wonder anymore, everyone else believed that he was gone for good. Everyone lese thought that _she _had lost it.

A knock on the door startled her. Opening it, she lead her guest through the apartment and towards her bedroom. "I am sorry for this, but you were the only one I could turn to. . . I didn't want to involve Bud or the others seeing as I don't know how far all of this goes."

"It's okay, Mac. Despite some rather odd situations, I hope I am still a friend to all of you." Former Admiral AJ Chegwidden stood by Mac's bed, studying a man that he'd come to care for like a son. He came around and stared at Harm's face, covered by the thick, un-maintained beard that looked so out of place. Squatting down, he was able to get a better look at some of the injuries. Injuries that were probably infected. "He needs medical attention." He turned towards Mac and smiled softly. "You were right." She was right and everyone, AJ included, were fools to believe otherwise. . .

April 2, 2005  
AJ Chegwidden's Home  
McLean, Virginia

That evening, Mac had been driving around aimlessly. She just didn't want to be home, alone, with her thoughts. Earlier that day she'd gone to Langley to try, yet again, to find some sort of information and, yet again, she came up empty. Part of her wanted, so badly to just run off and find him, but she didn't know where to start. "Mac?"

"I'm sorry, sir. . .I just. . . need to talk to someone." Her eyes were bloodshot, tearstains marked her face.

"Come in." AJ lead her into the living room, got Mac a glass of water and two Tylenol caplets then sat in the chair opposite her. "What's been going on?" Though AJ wasn't in town for a few months, the moment he arrived in March, he was informed of the situation. There was a sadness, one that he was sure he would feel if something had happened to his own daughter. Despite some odd attraction in the early years between he and Mac, now, they were like his kids. They were the people that he chose to protect and fight for because they would do the same for him. Harm had always been a special case for him. A man AJ was sure would eventually be the next JAG. It was upsetting and extremely unnerving that, almost two years ago, Harm had thrown away everything on a whim. And, even now, after all was said and done, AJ still felt ashamed of how he reacted. His hands were tied then and he was left to sacrifice one of his own to keep the rest of his people safe. Only, Rabb wouldn't stay behind; he defied AJ's commands, risked his life to bring Mac back and all he could do was toss him out on his ass. Some SEAL he was!

AJ stared at the Marine for a moment longer, watching her wrestle with emotions that she rarely let slip. The only other time he'd seen her like this was when Harm had gone down at sea. "He's alive, I have this strong feeling that he is. . . but no one believes me." She finally said, gulping down most of the water along with the two Tylenol caplets.

"Have you tried to find him?" AJ asked timidly, still in awe that she was even able to 'find' his raft in the middle of a storm battered ocean. "You did it once."

Mac had tried to use their eerie connection, but she still couldn't reach him. Maybe her timing was off this time? Maybe he really was gone? "No." She shook her head and sighed deeply. "I can't find him. . .I've tried." That's the part that had her freaked out the most. What if she couldn't find him because _they _were all right.

"Look, I'd be lying if I said I truly believe in all of that hokum, but. . .you surprised me twice before. . .try again."

"And what if he is gone, for good this time? What then? What am I supposed to do?" She vehemently fought the tears, telling herself that she wouldn't break down again. Mac needed to remain strong and sane. "No one believes me anyway. They all resigned to the fact that the damned CIA says he is gone."

AJ sighed, "I am surprised you haven't run after him."

"I would if I knew where to go." She said with a frown. Mac couldn't help but remember how he'd risked his. . . everything for her and she couldn't even afford him the same courtesy. "I've hit so many brick walls that I basically boxed myself in. . . No one knows anything."

"I'll see what I can do, but if the agency has declared him dead. . ."

He didn't have to say it, because Mac knew. "I know, sir. . .I just. . . keep hoping and waiting for some sort of lead."

"I'll see what I can find out." But, as the time passed, AJ, himself, couldn't find out a damned thing. As far as all information showed, he was dead. Either that or the agency had learned from Clay's faux pas and learned to cover its tracks better.

July 3, 2005  
2110 Zulu  
Mac's Apartment  
Georgetown

"I didn't find him though." She said with a frown. "I tried and tried but couldn't." Mac clenched her jaw angrily grinding her teeth. "Now those sons a bitches have the nerve to believe he's gone rogue which is _their _explanation as to why he was away for so long."

AJ wrapped his arms around her, soothing her as he spoke. "Mac, you tried. . . You believed. And I do not think, for a moment that he chose to cross to the other side. That is just bullshit, and you know it." He stepped away from her and fished through his pockets for his cell phone.

"Who are you calling?"

"A friend. . ." AJ spoke over the phone, relaying Mac's home address and asking that the person on the other line be 'discreet' when arriving. At Mac's blank stare, AJ grinned slightly. "Dr. Stephen Bishop, back in Nam he was the corpsman of our unit." With a sad look he glanced at the phone then back at Mac. "One of the few that got out with me. . .He continued onward, worked as a resident in Bethesda and, six years ago opened up his own practice."

"You trust him, sir." It was a statement more than a question.

AJ nodded. "With my life." Smirking, he tapped Mac on the shoulder. "And you have got to cut the, 'sir' crap, else I will find a way to ship you to the Aleutians."

"Aye, sir. . uh, AJ." Mac grinned.

2203 Zulu  
CIA Headquarters  
Langley, Virginia

The Marine headed along the hallway, escorted by one of the security guards in Langley. No one was allowed to wander the halls aimlessly, even when the person had been called in by one of the higher ups. "Here, Major." The guard, a man that had to be at least seven feet tall and was built like a linebacker, pointed to a waiting room. "He will see you in just a few minutes."

Major Chris Steele literally felt like sticking his tongue out at the guard. He'd always hated the agency even though it was his right, from birth, to become a member. On his eighteenth birthday, he ran away from his family's lush mansion in Alexandria, joined the corps, only to be used by the Agency anyway. You see, _on paper_, Major Steele was a former Hornet pilot, a cover needed to push a few of his _new partner_'_s _buttons. In reality, he was a killing machine, specially trained to handle problems dealing with the Agency and the military.

Opening up the file that he'd been shoved with since this whole charade had begun, he stared at the picture that had been found in Harm's apartment which he was ordered to trash so many months ago. In the picture, Harm and Mac stood next to each other wearing desert BDUs and boonies. Rabb, he thought, looked ridiculous, whereas MacKenzie, seemed to look good in anything. "Sarah MacKenzie." A satisfied smirk appeared at the thought of his new partner. Occasionally, the job had a few perks and this was surely one of them. He'd bumped into Mac once aboard the Henry and since then, he'd been smitten. This job, had been a godsend. Now, if they agency hadn't designed such a pathetic cover, maybe she'd loathe him a little less.

"Major Steele, you can go in now." Said the guard, opening the door into a very plush office.

Chris walked in, standing at attention before the desk of newly appointed Assistant Deputy Director Raymond Levine. "Reporting as ordered, sir."

"At ease, I am not your CO, Chris. . take a seat." Ray Levine pointed at one of the oversized chairs across from his desk then stood, heading towards a small bar. "Can I get you something to drink?"

Chris shook his head. "No, I just want to get this over before the General thinks I went UA. . . I am supposed to be at JAG helping with something or other." Whether or not he needed a drink, Ray placed it in Chris' hand and nodded for him to take a sip. "Cognac from Cuba, eh? Can't believe you still waste money on that."

"Bad habits don't die, I am afraid." Ray downed his own drink then settled himself into the chair. He studied the younger man before him. Despite that he'd chosen to join the military world, Chris was still his creation, his pupil and most prized _possession. _"I always see my sister when I look into your eyes. . . She'd have been proud." He turned around slightly, adjusting the chair so he could look out of the windows and onto the courtyard which was bustling with future agents. "These people are all garbage, Christopher. Non of them are dedicated enough to do what really needs to be done." He grinned and pointed one finger up, a gesture he used to make a point. "See, sacrifice is the only way to get the ball rolling. . .And it always works." Snapping out of his ideals for a utopic government, he turned back to Chris and smiled. "When your mother was dying I promised her I'd take good care of you."

"Yes, and I am grateful. . .You've been very good to me, Uncle." The Marine took a deep breath, fidgeting slightly in the chair. He was getting tired again; bored and tired and that wasn't good for an action junkie. "I am really getting tired of doing every last little petty piece of shit that the agency asks for. . ." He slid to the edge of his seat, his face illuminated by thoughts of war. "Give me blood, gore, guts. . . REAL action, not hand holding some pretty skirt."

Raymond chuckled slightly. Christopher had always been a slightly disturbed child, the ones that would play with animals until they ceased to exist. It was that, Raymond figured, which led Chris to the Corps, the training to be a precise killing machine. Raymond only heightened his expertise, teaching him the finer points of destroying targets. It was like an art form, one that even Chris' parents, both former agents, were skilled at. "That _pretty skirt_ is your assignment, Christopher. . .I suggest you _accept_ that."

Chris sighed dramatically. "Well, I would if I knew why I was babysitting her."

"We gave you information." Ray said, pointing to the manila envelope on Chris' lap. "A lot of information."

"Yes, on her and her ex-partner, but nothing else, no details. . . nada, zero, zip, zilch, nil."

"Christopher!" This was the one thing that Raymond hated, the fact that his nephew never took anything seriously. "It's the Commander we are wondering about."

Chris chuckled. "He's dead. . . But, the Colonel doesn't believe it."

"And she might be right. . .Our sources say that if he is, he will come to her."

"Sooo?"

"Christopher, get your head out of your ass. . ." Ray snapped. He stood and walked around the desk, sitting on it's top just in front of Chris. "Rabb is important to us. . . well, to me in particular. . . I want you to get in good with the Colonel. Find out if she is hiding him."

"Couldn't we just bug her place?"

"Yes, and get in deep trouble for it. . . the former JAG set up an agreement with Secretary Sheffield and Deputy Director Kershaw that his people were never to be used again. . . unfortunately, certain governmental types are abiding by that. If, for some reason, anyone figured we were bugging MacKenzie's place, I'd be out on my ass." Raymond shook his head. It was a miracle that they got Rabb to fly the Aurora at all. Well, not a miracle, just a lot of manipulation seeing as they waited until he was in the air, doing a cross-country with an F-14 (something that they set up) in order to get him away from DC and all the rules they were now bound by. "We can not touch her in the office or in her home. . . Which is why I want you to. . ."

"Seduce her." Chris said, in a tone of pure pleasure. He knew the drill because he'd done it before. Oh, how he thought about Sarah MacKenzie, in ways that would make a priest blush. This was turning out to be one hell of a case.

"Wipe that smirk away, Christopher, it won't be easy."

"Oh, believe me I know. .. the woman is a cast iron bitch and ball buster." He said with a dry chuckle. Mac was going to be a challenge and, he liked challenges.

"Not just that." Raymond stood, venturing back to the bar and served himself another drink. "We had an agent in the inside, I believe she compromised him."

"Who?"

"Clayton Webb."

A deep ripple of laughter came out of Chris. "You mean you guys are still letting him run around after all the fuck ups?"

"They dated, they broke up. . .He is rather pissed off about it, I figured it would be easier that way." Okay, so it wasn't the smartest plan, but he figured that a man scourned would be easier to manipulate. Apparently, that whole 'scourned' thing only worked with women.

Immediately, the jovial tone that Christopher Steelee had taken on went away. He was back to business, back to being a machine. "What do you want me to do."

----------------

Maj. Steelee wasn't going to be a bad guy. But, I didn't want to use the usual bad guys and this was a lot of fun. The hard part was trying to undo his whole "Hornet Pilot" background which I had started a few chappies prior. I think it works! Confuse the readers! I love it!

----

Xblue – LOL!! Love when it happens that way! The Uncle is Colonel Matthew O'Hara and no, he wasn't the one. I believe he is still in Leavenworth. It's one of those damned lose ends on JAG. :P

Joanoa – You'll find out why her "powers" didn't work. It had to do with Harm, you'll see what I mean coming up around chapter 7 or 8 when they finally get to talk.

Lei – Harm on Crack? No! The Agency on Crack? Yes!

Carbygirl – Get used to the cliffhangers, I love those. :)

Nikki – The Heavyness in chapters is going to get a bit more. Esp the NEXT one which I am sure a lot of people are going to be flipping over in a bad way.

Tina Frank – I love angst too! Oxymoron or not! ;) Angst is in my heart. And yes, the blue eyes do belong to Harm. He just won't be himself much for a few chapters. He has something to uncharacteristically get over. Stop scrapping and start writing!!! :P

Froggy – Far from over is an understatement!

Jade – Oh, he pissed off one or two people. About shooting his partner, we'll see. It's not as black and white as spookboy and the agency believe.

JTBWriter – I apparently have that affect on people. It's okay, I'll have the tissue standing by!

Charmboy – Ding ding ding!! You got it my friend!

Jackia – Harm's in some sort of DARK place, you'll see what I mean in future chappies. It won't be pretty but we'll love and support them. ;)


	6. Don’t Ever Trust The Needle

Lots of interesting and weird comments! Guess everyone loves Major Steele on account of his being so nice and all of that, right? ;)

Thanks to: XBlueShadowX, Aimee5, Charmboy4, starryeyes10, Nikki, dansingwolf, jag4ever, lei, Jackia, EternalSleep, Cristina, Tina Frank, achaon, Abigaile, Hieros Gamos, froggy0319, joanoa, JadeAlmasy, SpaceMan546, dansingwolf, carbygirl , JAGJenni, Manda, starryeyes, BiteBeccy, ng59678, LtColDevilDog, martini, mizukimarr, jtbwriter, Macaroon, Lissie, n.k, Lt.jgMegAustin, cbw, and anyone else I missed for the Feedback..

Anyway, next part Tuesday night! Enjoy!

PART 6 – Don't Ever Trust The Needle  
(Title is an excerpt from Queensryche's song "The Needle Lies" off of their Operation: Mindcrime, CD.)

July 3, 2005  
2250 Zulu  
Mac's Apartment  
Georgetown

Dr. Bishop, Steve, as he wished to be called, arrived literally about twenty minutes after AJ's call. The two men went through the usual 'male' pleasantries before he settled on his patient. There were injuries, more than Mac had been able to find from her once over. Maybe, she just didn't want to find them in hopes that if they were out of site, it just wasn't on Harm's body. No one seemed to mind Harm's nakedness, which, Mac explained, had been due to him trying to use the shower.

Often, there would be areas, injuries, that Steve would frown about. Particularly, a tender spot on Harm's ribs which, even in deep sleep, would cause him to wince. "Being a corpsman, I've become accustomed to deciphering whether bones are broken or not. Luckily, he doesn't seem to have any." He tended to Harm's feet that were blistered, like those of people who have been on a long hike with bad shoes. For the marks on his back, he suggested an ointment, that AJ went to pick up at a 24/7 pharmacy nearby. "I've seen these types of marks before, Colonel."

Mac had given the doctor some space and chose to stand at the other side of the room, keeping her questions to herself. Until now. "What could have caused it?"

"Some sort of a whip." Steve said in a soft tone, but Mac still heard him. "His fingernails, someone was shoving pieces of either metal or wood through them."

Mac cringed as her mind treated her to a visual. It was one of the torture techniques that Sadik had used on Clay before hooking up those damned car batteries. "There are also marks on his torso. I believe to be from steel wool attached to a car battery." Thankfully, Harm's marks weren't as bad as Clay's. And, she noticed, he wasn't shaking, so neurological damage could possibly be kept to a minimum.

Steve studied Harm's arms, turning away, disgusted by the track marks. "Some are new."

"He couldn't do that to himself. Harm's. . . too strong for that." She believed, even though something inside told her that this shell of a man was long ways from the Harm she knew and loved.

"Just because you're strong, Colonel, doesn't mean you can't break." He didn't make eye contact with her, only continued examining Harm, yet the whole thing hit home. If he was right, then there was something really horrible to deal with.

Mac knew, full well, what a dependency to a drug was. No one knew just how dark her life as Mrs. Chris Ragle really was. No one knew of the times she experimented with heroin, something that she got off of rather quickly as one of their close friends overdosed right in front of them. From that point on, it was only booze, which bore its own consequences and was just as addictive. In retrospect, she didn't really understand her allure to alcohol. Sure, it could make you forget and make you act differently, sometimes more confident; those being the only two reasons why she bought the vodka bottle sitting on her coffee table. But, the mornings were a bitch, spent in some sort of hazy existence to be remedied by either drinking some awful concoction or puking your lungs out; neither being very appealing. "I'm an alcoholic, Steve. . .I've been sober mostly because of him saving my six. . .If it comes to that, I'll save his six."

Their conversation had roused Harm slightly who opened his eyes only to black out again. It was to be expected. AJ had arrived just as Steve finished the check up. They headed into the living room for further discussion on certain does and don'ts.

Harm waited, pretending to be asleep, until the three had left the room. Once gone, he fought against his out of whack equilibrium and sat on the floor in front of Mac's nightstand. His hands were shivering, not from cold or shock like the others had thought, but from something else. Hurrying, he pulled out the bottom drawer, reaching in and down until his fingers bumped into what he was looking for. His heart was beating wildly now, threatening to rip out of his chest as he sensed someone walking to the door.

They were saying goodbye to the doctor, and then, mercifully AJ asked if he could do anything else. Harm heard Mac, "Uh, yea. . . I have some of his things downstairs in storage, might be a good idea to bring them up." She sounded so calm. He waited, quietly, using the last shred of patience before pulling out the small glass bottle and syringe.

Using his teeth, Harm took the tip off, exposing a needle that looked like it had more bad days than good. It was becoming difficult to prick himself with it, each time he needed to force it through his skin, a painful task with a great reward. Or so he thought. He fumbled with the vial, nearly dropping it twice as he worked on getting the clear liquid into the syringe. Looking around, he tugged at the sheets, using whatever strength he had left to use them as a tourniquet. "C'mom, c-c'mon. . C'mon!" He yelled, slapping his arm until the veins came up in greeting. It was becoming much more difficult to get them to respond, but, once they did, he sank the needle in, throwing his head back as the liquid did its magic on his pain. He wasn't using much, _she'd_ gotten him used to just a little bit, which was good because it made him function without looking like a junkie. It was just enough to get him through the trauma. Carefully, he removed the needle from his vein and placed it and the vial securely under Mac's nightstand. His body was still shaking, but less than before, enabling him to head into the bathroom and relieve himself before laying back in bed. With a sigh of relief, he let himself drift off into a dreamless sleep. He was safe, with her.

Mac and AJ trudged up two boxes that she had acquired with Harm's belongings. Things that, she just couldn't sell or get rid of because, again, she wouldn't admit to his death. They were placed on her coffee table so that Mac could wash them in her machines in order for Harm to wear.

"Thank you, for everything." Mac said to AJ as he stood under her doorframe, ready to head back to his home and Meredith, who he had made up with over the spring.

AJ hugged his friend and smiled. "Mac, if anything happens, I'm a phone call away. . . I still know people, a lot of people who owe me a lot of favors."

Mac nodded. "I'll call, I promise." As he stepped out of her home, back leaned up against the back of the door.

July 4, 2005  
0145 Zulu  
JAG Headquarters  
Falls Church, Virginia

Major Steele sat in the law library, going through the endless task of finalizing reports. He was terrible at it because he wasn't a real lawyer. All the gibberish was giving him a headache. When he first got this mission, he was tempted to decline. How could someone of his talents work as some legal weenie? What a waste of time! 'How exactly do you expect me to be a lawyer? I barely know what to expect at a courts-martial.' He'd yelled at Raymond Levine.

Ray's answer was a month long crash course on being a military lawyer. Basically, Chris was to appear not to want to settle, but in the end do just that. If anything, God forbid, ever went to court, he would go in wearing an undetectable earpiece so that one of the Agency lawyers could tell him what to say. They were prepared, but today, the General had thrown him a doozy. Luckily, Coates was also in today and she was so willing to help him, that he'd saddled her with a good portion of the work as he sat trying to figure out what to do with the rest.

With a long sigh, he decided to take his work home. Better yet, he'd drop by the Agency tomorrow and have _them_ work on the reports. He was heading out of the law library, when he stopped to eavesdrop on a conversation between General Cresswell and Clayton Webb.

"I understand, General, but the Colonel needs some time to herself, she hasn't been well."

Cresswell zeroed in on Webb. "Are you her keeper, Mr. Webb?"

Webb faltered slightly. The new JAG had the same bite as the former and he wasn't too ready to get decked by this one. "Nooo, but she is a friend, just looking out for her."

Cresswell softened slightly, glancing at Webb with a mild trepidation. God, he hated the Agency. "Tell her to call in on Monday morning if she needs anything, Mr. Webb. . .now, get out of my way, I'd like to get home to my wife sometime tonight."

Major Steele hung back for a moment, waiting for both men to leave before stepping out. "Why would Mr. Webb be so concerned for Mac? Unless. . ." With a smirk he headed out of JAG ops whistling loudly.

July 4, 2005  
0345 Zulu  
Mac's Apartment  
Georgetown

Mac walked out of her bedroom after spending most of her time with Harm. He still hadn't stirred, but she noted his fever was gone and that pale look of his face had disappeared as well. She went back to folding the clothing which she had washed earlier. His clothing, one of the many things that she wound up with after his apartment had been sold. The CIA had done a dandy job of tearing the place up, trying to find some sort of information which was yet another reason for her to believe in conspiracy theories....

February 11, 2005  
1600 Zulu  
JAG Headquarters  
Falls Church, Virginia

Mac, Bud, Sturgis, Harriet, Coates, Cresswell, Trish and Frank, all sat around the large conference table, waiting patiently as a civilian lawyer went through his files, locating Harm's Will. Trish was slightly putt off as to why a civilian attorney would have her son's final wishes. "I assume he set that up when he was no longer in the Navy, Ma'am." Bud said politely.

Trish had forgotten about her son's stunt and what it had caused him. It was a foolish plight, but she knew, full well how much he needed Mac to be alright. With a watery smile, she turned to Mac, who was sitting next to her, and took her hand, squeezing gently.

The lawyer began reading through the list, sending Harm's possessions to new owners. "To Lt. Commander Bud J. Roberts and Harriet Sims." That alone, made Mac realize that he'd updated the will and probably just left it to a civilian attorney to not bother going through the hassle of turning it to anyone else. "Any monies in accounts and under my name during the time of death are to be placed into an account for your children."

Trish sat up a little straighter, bracing herself as she heard her name. "To Trish Burnette, my mother, I leave mine and my father's legacy, the tapes you've copied for me from his time in service, my service medals and uniforms, but most of all my sincere apology for ever causing you pain." She wiped away a few tears and rested her head on Frank's shoulder. "To my stepfather, Frank Burnette, I leave you something that I've held in my possession and in my heart – a stop watch that had belonged to the Rabb men, my father, grandfather and great grandfather before him. Please accept this as a token of my love and respect for you. I made your life hell, Frank when all I should have been doing is thanking you for saving my mother and caring for me."

A few other things, pictures, momentous went to both Coates and Sturgis, but there were some larger things to be considered. "Finally, to Sarah MacKenzie, my best friend and partner, I leave you my two most prized possessions: the Vette and 'Sarah' my biplane." Mac's jaw all but hit the floor as the lawyer read that bit off. "Take care of both of them for me and be sure to visit 'Sarah' often, maybe someone can take you up. Try flying again, Mac, this time, maybe you'll learn to love it."

July 4, 2005  
0350 Zulu  
Mac's Apartment  
Georgetown

Mac would've liked to say that he'd been wrong about flying, but it would be a lie. The very next day, she drove to Blacksburg and spent nearly two hours just staring at 'Sarah.' It was then, as a storm was rolling in and the hangar owner was closing up that she'd made the crazy decision: she was going to learn to fly.

The first time up was pure torture, her instructor was not as smooth of a stick as Harm. But, with a few more flights under her belt, she found that she was learning the mechanics of it rather well. Harm would be proud of her. She grinned towards the bedroom, "Wait until I tell you, flyboy."

"Maac. . ." She heard him groan and immediately ran towards the room. There she found him, bathed in sweat, tossing from side to side.

Mac sat next to him, running her hand over his forehead. "Shhh. . .I am here Harm. . . You are okay, you are safe."

"I killed him!" He yelled in his sleep, still not calming down though Mac was trying to stop the nightmare. "Oh God. . . No!"

"It's okay, nothing is going to hurt you. . .it's okay." She glanced at his arms again and to a bruise that was forming around a track that appeared to be too fresh. 'Harm wouldn't do that.' She thought, looking away from the mark. 'He's too strong.' But, even the strong sometime succumb to the needle's lies.

LtjgMeg – Glad you caught up! 

Deb – Isn't it FUN to hate people on stories? Last big story I wrote, I loved having people hate Renee. It was fun! LOL!

Hieros – Harm _might_ have done something, we'll see how it pans out, but now he has other things to deal with.

Aimee – Well once he fixes up, they can kick ass together.

Nikki – Steele is an ass, but such a cute one the way I see him in my head. Shame really for him to be a bad guy, but. . . we must sacrifice for the greater good!

Nk – Sorry I can't update quicker! I'll try to write more. 

Xblue – Is Calix not giving the meds to you again? ;) (chuckles) It wouldn't be FUN if someone didn't screw around with their lives!!

Tina – Yea I miss AJ, I like Cresswell but miss AJ. (sighs)

Cbw – Not a problem, with this review I shall let you off the hook! ;)

Carby – I'll let you be the one to bop Mac over the head if she falls for him! Cos, you never really know with Mac!!

Lei – mac slapping Steele… I like it!! Could work! ;)

BiteBeccy – LOL!! I am sure others will join in your Steele bashing. Sheesh! So quick to hate!

Jtbwriter – Yea, but you never know with Mac she might bust his balls. Hehehe Mac rocks!

Jackia – Haha! Gotcha then!  yes, dear ol AJ dropped by. Mac might kick the Major's six, we'll see.

Froggy – AJ rocks and yes, Harm will need mucho help! Don't worry, mac won't leave his side so easily!

Jade – Well the typical bad guys are over used, fun to use, but over used anyway. ;) A new villan seemed like the right thing to do!

Charmboy – Oh, he is a bad guy PRETENDING to be a regular joe. Make no bones about it. Steele has an agenda.


	7. Some Sort Of Peace

Wow, can't believe people are sticking this out! Surprised you guys dig this story, considering the characters are a bit outta whack. :) Don't worry! Things will get better, but they need to get fixed before they get better.

Thanks to: XBlueShadowX, Aimee5, Charmboy4, starryeyes10, Nikki, dansingwolf, jag4ever, lei, Jackia, EternalSleep, Cristina, Tina Frank, achaon, Abigaile, Hieros Gamos, froggy0319, joanoa, JadeAlmasy, SpaceMan546, dansingwolf, carbygirl , JAGJenni, Manda, starryeyes, BiteBeccy, ng59678, LtColDevilDog, martini, mizukimarr, jtbwriter, Macaroon, Lissie, n.k, Lt.jgMegAustin, cbw, dansingwolf, and anyone else I missed for the Feedback..

For now. . . A little shipperness. :)

Enjoy!

Jackie.

PART 7 – Some Sort Of Peace

July 4, 2005  
1610 Zulu  
Mac's Apartment  
Georgetown

Harm's head was pounding so much it was muffling his hearing. As he slowly opened his eyes, he felt the room twisting and turning, finally falling into place after a few blinks and a good shake of his head. He sat up, scrubbing his eyes as his vision adjusted to the morning light in the room. 'Where am I?' He thought, looking around, finally stopping to focus on a figure sleeping on a chair with feet propped up on the bed. "Mac?" He was confused, wondering how exactly he'd gotten there. Was it a dream? Was he still back in his personal hell and dreaming of her? He shook his head, trying to get his thoughts into something tangible.

"Hey. Morning sailor." Mac said, sounding tired. She twisted in the chair, trying to ring out her back before managing to stand. "Harm?" She didn't get a response from him, just some sort of catatonic gaze that started to worry her. Slowly, she walked around the bed. "Harm? Are you okay?" Reaching out a hand, she placed it on his forehead then ran it down his cheek, he was a little warm but wasn't burning up like the night before.

Harm tensed at the sensation. She was real. _This_ was real and he never felt so relieved before in his life. Wrapping a hand around her wrist, he tugged her towards him, ignoring the pain from his ribs at the sudden movement. His arms came around Mac as he hugged her with a new found energy. "You're real. . ." He whispered and couldn't help the choked sob that came out of him. "Oh God, you're real."

"You're safe, Harm." Mac said softly as she kept her hands around an area of his body that would not cause him any pain. It felt so good to hold him again, to know he was safe. Granted, she didn't know how long all of that would last as she was certain someone would come after him, but she was determined not to let anything hurt him again. When he let her go, she sat at the edge of the bed and just looked at him. "Are you. . .well, okay?"

Harm shook his head slowly. "Everything hurts. . . and I am in need of a shower." He said with a disgusted look on his face. Glancing under the sheets, he turned a shade of red and settled his gaze back on Mac. "I. . . uhm, naked?"

"Oh!" Mac said, turning red herself. "Uh, that's a. . .ah, long story, but how about I get that shower running, you can wrap up in the sheets and head in?" Quickly, she headed into the bathroom, hoping to stifle any other odd moment between her and Harm. With a frown, she leaned against the bathroom cabinet and sighed. "Damnit." Mac whispered, hoping to God that whatever had happened to him wouldn't throw them back into that awkward place they were in right when Harm returned from flying. It seemed that every time either of them went away for an extended period of time things got shaken up to the breaking point. Maybe this was all too much for them? Maybe this was the end? "It can't be." Mac whispered as she reached over to the shelf and pulled out a fluffy towel which she placed on the head. Re-thinking the shower idea, she placed the plug in the drain and proceeded to let the tub fill up. It would give her a better piece of mind if he just sat in the tub, rather than have her worry about falling over and hurting himself.

Harm lay in bed for a few more minutes, fighting another wave of vertigo as his brain started filling in the pieces. It had taken him nearly three weeks to get back home without detection. And even as he arrived, it was a day or two more before he noted that the coast was clear and Mac was not being tailed. It was a chance, a very big chance, seeing as he didn't want to get her involved. But, there was no one else to go to and this couldn't be done alone. With a frown, he sat up slowly. He glanced down at the sheets which had patches of dried blood on them. He was _naked_ in _her_ bed, a fantasy that he'd wanted to be fulfilled so badly. "Well, this isn't quite how I imagined it." He said with a huff and slowly made his way to the bathroom.

Mac nearly collided with him and used her hand to steady him. Just as always, that electricity coursed between them with just one touch. She felt it and knew that he did too, but it wasn't the time for the romance that his disappearance had left in the cold. No, right now, it was about taking care of him and finding out what exactly happened. "Sorry, I was. . .coming to get you." She pressed herself up against the doorframe, his body brushing against hers as he walked into the bathroom. "You seemed shaky, so a bath sounded better, you can sit at the edge of the tub and ease yourself in."

Harm nodded and turned around, seeing the bathtub full of bubbles with a light scent of lavender in the air. 'I'm going to smell like a chic.' He thought, 'Well, not just _any _chic, Hammer. . . You'll smell like _her._' He smiled at that. It was a small smile, but a smile nonetheless. When he heard the door close behind him, Harm spun around. "Mac? Where are you going?"

"To give you privacy."

"Uh." How was he going to tell her that the _last_ thing he wanted was to be alone? "Mac?" His voice stopped her from getting any further than a few steps from the bathroom door. "I don't. . . I don't want to be alone." He stood still for a moment, holding his breath, not sure what to expect from her. Mac wouldn't laugh at him, that much he knew. But, he was normally a strong man and now, what would she think of him?

Mac clenched her fits. His shaken voice speaking volumes. Who ever did that to him was going to pay it didn't matter how long she had to wait to exact her revenge, but they would pay. "I'm just going to go get something for you to wear and I'll be right back. . . Just be careful stepping in, okay?"

"Okay." He said with a nod and for the first time in ages, did as told. Harm groaned as the warm water attacked all of the injuries on his body. They burned, itched, but the warmth was pleasant on his tired muscles. He slid down as much as possible, bending his knees so his frame could fit in her tub. He dunked his head under the water, coming back up quickly as an onslaught of nightmares fought into his consciousness. The water sloshed around the tub as he sat up straight, telling himself he was safe, he was fine that they weren't trying to drown him again. And just as his mind was taking him into the darkness, Mac mercifully knocked on the door. "Enter." He barked, that being the only word he could muster as he regained control.

Mac walked in, set the clothing on a shelf along with the towel that she'd placed on the head. Rummaging under the sink, she pulled out a new toothbrush. "Hope the water isn't too hot." She said, finally taking a seat on the head. There was a silence between them and tensioned filled the tiny room. She heard no movement from his end and spoke up with the first thing that came to her mind. "You. . .ah, need any help?" She mentally cursed herself for sounding so stupid. 'Yea, MacKenzie, he's a grown man, I think he knows how to bathe, you idiot!'

"No, just. . . talk to me." He said in a soft voice.

Mac nodded. She knew what _she_ wanted to talk about, but that was best left until _he_ was ready to divulge. "What do you want me to talk about?"

"Bud and Harriet. . the kids. . . anything." He reached over, took the soap she'd left on the side of the tub and began lathering his body. Thankfully, the pain from the wounds was starting to go away.

There really wasn't much to talk about that didn't breach on the subject of his disappearance. At least, in her day to day life, it all revolved around him and what would happen had he never returned. Now, the Roberts' kids, was a different story. She didn't spend as much time as she would've liked with them, but that was mainly because she didn't want them to see her so broken. It tugged at her heart strings when AJ kept telling her that 'Uncle Harm' was in 'Heaven.' "Well, you should see the twins, Harm. . . One of them looks like AJ, the other like Jimmy." She smiled, recalling nearly everyone at JAG rushing to the hospital. "She didn't have them in the office this time, but, you know Bud."

Harm chuckled slightly. Harriet giving birth in AJ's office was just, insane, but it was such a fun memory to look back on. Very few people could say they were there when their godson was born. "What happened this time?"

"He walked in on the wrong woman." Mac said, laughing. It was one of the few moments that she'd let herself laugh during the months after his disappearance. "The woman, who didn't know English, starts yelling at him and Bud is trying to apologize."

"What about Harriet?"

"Oh, she was LIVID. I believe the words were 'You touch me again you, bastard and I'll kill you with my bare hands.'" She chuckled again, remembering back to the look on Bud's face as he took over.

Harm laughed as well. "You were in the delivery room?"

"Yep, I was at their house when she had the pains. Bud had gone out to get something for one of her cravings, so I got stuck as assistant coach."

Thoughts of what it must have to felt like for Mac to see a birth, first hand, saddened Harm. Though he wasn't very informed on her condition, research had showed him that the chances, if the endometriosis was advanced, of getting pregnant were pretty damned slim. They remained silent for a few minutes as Harm lathered and rinsed his hair, a task that used to be easier when it was cropped. "This is weird."

"You being in my tub? I'd have to agree with you." Though, in her fantasies it was a common occurrence.

After he finished cleansing himself thoroughly and rising as much as possible, he slowly sat up. "Mac, I need a. . .a little help. . . My knee's killing me." He groaned, pulling the plug on the tub as best he could with is big toe.

"How long has it been hurting?" She said with a frown, but already knew the answer.

"Since I thrashed it the night of your engagement party."

Mac sighed, even now, that night haunted her. Yet, it all seemed like some dream compared to what she went through now. "Here, let me know when I can help you up.." She handed him a towel from behind shower curtain and waited for him to open up before helping him. She helped him out of the shower, blushing slightly when the towel slipped. Harm grabbed on, holding the towel just in front of him as Mac's eyes traveled downward. She turned redder and headed out of the bathroom without giving him a second glance. "I'll uh, be outside." Closing the door behind her, Mac leaned against the doorframe. 'Damnit MacKenzie! Get your head out of the gutter! He's hurt!' She chastised herself. But, she was only a woman and he was a very desirable man. In need for help, but desirable nonetheless. From inside she heard groans and a few hisses of breath. "Are you okay in there?"

"Sorry, body's sore." He supplied with a groan as he passed the towel over his bruised ribs. "I'll be out in a bit."

"It's okay, Harm. . . take your time I am not going anywhere."

"Thank you." Once again he tied the towel around his waist and stood in front of the mirror, using the cabinet to lean his body up against. He cringed at what he saw. Never ever had he looked so disheveled.

"You'd have done the same for me."

"Yes I would've. . ." He confirmed, grabbing the toothbrush Mac had left for him. Finally, he noted the clothes on the head and proceeded to slip on the boxers, flannel pants and ribbed, tank top. Everything was just a little lose, but comfortable and a welcome difference from the filthy clothing he was wearing. He heard Mac just outside the door, ordering what he figured was an early lunch.

Opening the door, he staggered out to find Mac sitting on the bed with her ear to the phone. "Twenty minutes? Yes, thank you." She looked up at him and smiled. He still didn't look like _her_ flyboy, but at least he looked clean and refreshed. "I ordered Chinese, we need to get some meat back on those bones of yours, Stickboy." She held his eyes with her own, noting how their expression was nearly gone. He looked away and then looked back up at her.

Then there was the tension. The same kind that had plagued their relationship for so long that it was almost like an unwelcome friend. They stared at each other, both unable to find words to say. It was Harm that finally found the words he'd rehearsed to many times since he'd gone under. "I'm sorry. . .I didn't want this to happen. . . I didn't do this on purpose, Mac."

"Harm. . ." She waved him off, or at least attempted to. Whatever the reasons and situations, she didn't want to pressure him into finding out. Maybe, just maybe, she didn't want to know for fear that everything Clay had said was truth. "It's okay."

Angrily, he leaned against her vanity, moving his arms across his chest as a sign of defense. "No, damnit. It's not okay!. . . Christmas Eve was the start of something. . . Something that I wanted to pursue. But, it got taken away."

"We were working on an us." She confirmed with a look of remorse. And they were. At least, she thought they were. It took nearly losing her life to put everything into perspective. They were both sick of the dance and this time _he_ was waiting on _her_. There was no one waiting in the wings. No other _safe_ relationship to run to. It was just Harm and Sarah, the way it should have been so long ago. "I was really looking to spend time with you during the holidays. . . we had things to un-table." It was during Christmas day when he'd suggested they spent New Years Eve together, alone. To talk about the past, settle their demons and start the new year with an understanding.

That was shot to hell when he disappeared and Harm felt so guilty about that. "Yea. . . I am sorry I destroyed that."

Mac looked up, a positive look in her eyes. There was still hope. There _had _to be! How many times had they both been pulled apart, only to come back to each other. That had to count for something, didn't it? "You didn't destroy anything." Standing, she walked up to him, placing a comforting hand on his arm. "I want things to be right between us. Now, c'mon you need to rest." She tugged him over to the bed, which she had placed fresh sheets on and sat him down.

Harm took a deep, reassuring breath as she worked on tucking a blanket around him. In any other circumstance, he hated being mothered. But now, after so many months of pain and longing, it felt _good._ He tugged at his shirt and gave Mac a funny look. "These _are_ my clothes, aren't they?"

"Yes, I saved some things. . ." Because she always knew he'd come home. Well, maybe not always, there were moments when she wanted to give up. "Your mom and step dad came down, they wanted to make sure your things were safe. . . so they bought the building, Jen's living in your apartment now. . ." Mac trailed off slightly, her mind racing back to that morning when his will was being read. She swallowed down the lump at her throat and wiped off the solitary tear that fell. It meant more than she could say to know he'd thought about her enough to leave her his two most prized possessions. "I have your Vette in storage, I make sure to take it out so that it still runs right. I. . still can't believe you left me 'Sarah' in your will."

"They are things that are important to me, Mac. . .They aren't _just _possessions. The Vette I got when I first got my wings and Sarah. . ." He sat up, taking both of her hands I in his. "You are the only person who understood what they meant to me."

"I know. . .and I was touched." She looked up at him as he characteristically wiped away another tear that fell.

They stared at each other again; the tension from earlier wiping away slowly as both realized that the relationship could be salvaged once again. "Have you gone up in her?" Harm's voice was gentle as he spoke, as if he were afraid that the moment would be buried.

She grinned up at him, a mischievous grin that appealed to him. That was _his_ grin. "I ah. . .started taking flying lessons in Blacksburg."

Harm beamed like a kid at a candy store. His smile, that sexy, flyboy smile, resuscitated, nearly illuminating his eyes. "Really? Have you taken her up yet?"

"Yes. . . It's. .. it's amazing." She shied away from him, thinking back on all of the times he'd offered to take her up but she was too chicken. Then again, how could anyone blame her after their tête-à-tête with poachers.

He turned away from her, just for a second and noticed his appearance in the vanity across from the bed. "I look grizzly." He brushed a hand over the facial hair and made a face. The mountain man look was certainly NOT for him.

Mac chuckled, then sobered. "You know what? I got an idea." Standing, she headed into the bathroom and rummaged around the cabinet.

"What are you doing?" He noticed her walking back out with a small, rolled up, leather case of sorts and a towel, which she placed in the bed. "And what are those?"

"We're going to clean you up." She tapped the side of the bed, then helped him sit up. "Okay, sit there, I'll just grab this." The vanity chair was tugged across and placed just in front of Harm. She grabbed the towel and draped it around his upper body. Rummaging through the leather case, she took out a pair of scissors. Harm remained quiet as she started snipping hair off of his face. She gently, turned his head, snipping hair from one cheek and then the other. Then she returned to the bathroom, heading back with a razor, a can of shaving gel and a small plastic tub with warm water. "Do you trust me?"

Harm nodded. "Just be gentle, Marine."

"I'll be good and gentle, how's that?" She carefully shaved away his facial hair, making faces that he would match in order to scrape the right areas. Mac became skillful at an early age when her father was sometimes too hung over to shave properly. "Okay, one more thing."

Harm eyed Mac as she produced an electric shaver of sorts. The one used to shave dog hair. "Uh, and that is for?"

She reached out and gently tugged at a long lock of hair. "I assume you want to be fit for duty, don't you?"

"Those were Jingo's, weren't they?" He said, unable to conceal a smile.

And she didn't even bother to lie. "Yes, but, they have settings. If I put it here." Mac said, pointing to the descending numbers, "Then it would leave some length. I'd figure kinda like when you were in your Marine phase."

"It wasn't a _Marine phase_, MacKenzie." He said with a voice of mock hurt. "It was an order from the Judge Advocate of the Navy."

Mac chuckled. "Life would be easier if you just _admit_ that you _liked _playing a recon Marine."

He rolled his eyes at her, then shook his head, making the longer locks go wild. "Okay, whatever. . . just don't give me a bald head." The minute he heard the switch go on all he could thing of was. 'God help me.'

Half an hour later, Harm and Mac sat on her bed, discarded boxes of Chinese littered around. Harm leaned against the pillow that was propped up the headboard and sighed. "God. . . I needed that." He looked himself in the mirror and grinned. Mac had done a fine job. Harm studied her for a moment. She'd barely eaten anything and was still just picking at the noodles. They had to talk and get everything out of the way. "Mac. . . I know what's on your mind."

"Uh huh." She said flatly, finally giving up on the food and placing the carton on the night table. "Who are you? Kreskin?" During the silence that erupted over lunch, she'd had time to stop and rationalize, something that hadn't really happened since his arrival. Now, she was back to feeling bitter. . . angry. . . betrayed. Sure, he said he was sorry, but so did Webb. Yes, she realized she was comparing apples to oranges, but what other barometer did she have to go by? "I. . . should be happy. . . that you're alive. But, I am so angry that. . ."

Harm could sympathize because he was angry too. Angry at the world, at the CIA, the monsters that kept him. "I can't blame you for being angry at me, Mac. . . But, I really didn't do this on purpose. . . I had every intention to be here during New Years."

"But, you didn't say 'no.'" Her head snapped up and she glared at him. That cold, unforgiving glare that was a trademark. Harm had been on the receiving side of _many _of those. "And this isn't just about me. It's bigger than that. . .It's about, our friends, our colleagues." She grabbed at a pillow and squeezed it hard. "Do you know what the worst of it all was? Having little AJ console me." She pursed her lips together, biting down on her lower lip to help stop the tears. "He told me you were safe in heaven." Standing, she paced slowly in front of the bed. "I tried to mourn you so many times, but I couldn't. Part of me always believed you'd come home. . . It was actually, almost recently that I gave up altogether." Stopping, she turned and faced him. "I kept thinking of your dad and how much I didn't' want that to happen to you. Which is when the guilt set in because. . . because."

"You would have preferred me to have died than lived like that." He understood, oh too well what her guilt was about. Harm begged for death several times in, when the pain was just so much to bare. He couldn't blame her for wishing the same for him. "Mac, non of this was your fault. . .There is nothing for you to feel guilty about." Reaching out a hand, he tugged her over to him and held her in his arms. "You look exhausted, let's get some rest, okay?"

Mac nodded and allowed her body to seek out some sort of peace that she had eluded her all of this time.  
------------------------

Dansingwolf – There's a lot of Harm and Mac interaction to come, she will definitely help him out!

Tina – Yep, Harm's a junkie, but he'll get help whether he wants it or not. ;)

Carby – Oh there is going to be an interesting Mac and Steele chapter coming up eventually. I'd say probably 5 or so chapters away. Mac will stick by her man, not to worry!

Ng – Not a designer drug, at all. The name of the story IS "Something For the Pain" so that could give you a hint on what he is on. ;) How he got it, is another story.

Macaroon – Woo!! Someone noted the mysterious "she" in the story. Very good! Proud of ya! :D He did't really chose the addiction, it was a means to get home without going insane. . . You'll see what I mean, I promise! :)

Nikki – Hot and loathful LOL! That's Maj. Steele for you! LOL! Which yea, it gives him more slimy qualities. ;)

LtJGMeg – I happen to think that if AJ didn't exsist a lot of people would care more for Cresswell, I like him, I think he's done an outstanding job coming in. I do miss AJ, but I do like Cresswell, having a Marine as a JAG is quite fun. :)

Jtbwriter – Luckily they haven't figured out (cept for Clay) that Harm is with Mac. And Clay, for the moment, is keeping that tidbit to himself.

Jackia – Mac will save Harm and he will save her. :)


	8. The Needle Keeps Calling Me Back

Thanks to: XBlueShadowX, Aimee5, Charmboy4, starryeyes10, Nikki, dansingwolf, jag4ever, lei, Jackia, EternalSleep, Cristina, Tina Frank, achaon, Abigaile, Hieros Gamos, froggy0319, joanoa, JadeAlmasy, SpaceMan546, dansingwolf, carbygirl , JAGJenni, Manda, starryeyes, BiteBeccy, ng59678, LtColDevilDog, martini, mizukimarr, jtbwriter, Macaroon, Lissie, n.k, Lt.jgMegAustin, cbw, dansingwolf, Apion and anyone else I missed for the Feedback..

PART 8 – The Needle Keeps Calling Me Back

(Title is, once again, an excerpt from Queensryche's "The Needle Lies")

July 4, 2005  
2300 Zulu  
Mac's Apartment  
Georgetown

The shakes had started again in the evening, accompanied by sweating and a pain that only one thing could take away. Frantically, he sat up in bed, noting that the spot next to him was empty. His senses were on fire, each trying to work as a team and figure out where she'd gone. A second later, he heard the sound of the shower running. It was a Godsend; a moment alone. Harm threw himself off of the bed, ignoring the screaming muscles as he opened the bottom door of the nightstand. From underneath he pulled out the vial and needle.

"Harm? Are you okay?" He heard Mac call from the bathroom. Obviously his senses were not as up to par as they should have been. She must have heard him fall off the bed.

Harm glanced towards the bathroom door, which was a jar and then placed his attention to his shaking hands and the needle. "Yea, yea. . . just dropped something." He stuck the needle into the vial, took note of how much liquid was being sucked in and then tried to find a tourniquet.

"I'll be out in a minute." She said, and he heard the water stop altogether.

Harm reached for a belt of Mac's and tied it around his arm, using his teeth to tighten the band. "C'mon. C'mon. C'mon." He chanted, willing his vein to come to attention. Once it did, he flicked the bubbles out of the needle. His hand was shaking so badly that it took an unbelievable amount of force to turn the needle around, angling it towards the correct vein. "Steady. . . steady. No!" He cursed as it fell out of his hand and to the carpeted floor. Frantically, he reached for it, going through the daunting task of angling it again with his vein. "Please!" He yelled out loud, looking up to the heavens for some sort of help in his task.

Mac chose this moment to walk out of the bathroom. Her eyes fixed on the figure seated on the floor next to her bed, with a syringe in his hand. "What are you doing?!"

Harm's eyes opened and fluttered, exposing the tears he was trying to fight back. They fell now, rushed down his cheeks as he looked up at Mac. There was remorse in his eyes and that awful look of shame. "I'm so sorry." He blubbered out as the needle sank into his vein. He laid his head back, allowing the sensation to ripple thought his body, calming his nightmares and pains.

He seemed to have passed out, if not from whatever he'd injected himself with, then from the force that it took him to fight off using the drug. Mac came to his side in a flash, tears falling from her own eyes as she carefully removed the syringe and make-shift tourniquet. "Oh God. . . what have you done to yourself?" She searched for a pulse, grateful to find it beating hard and steady. Mac wrapped her arms around him, rocking back and forth until she could cry no more.

His body was still unconscious as her eyes searched his arms, finding each and every prick, noticing fresher ones. Grabbing the vial, she read the label. The medical name she knew too well, as it had been used in a case she and Harm and worked on the year before. "Morphine?" But, why would Harm have it?

0039 Zulu  
Alexandria, Virginia

"C'mon Webb, do _something!_" Major Christopher Steele yelled as he sat in his car waiting. He'd spent the better part of the day staking out Webb's place, hoping for him to make some sort of move, but it never happened. "Okay, that's it!" He jumped out of the car, carrying a small bag and cautiously crossed the street. Taking a peek through the gates of the parking garage, he saw Clay's black Jaguar in its proper space.

Chris wasn't in uniform, only in jeans and a button down shirt. He wore an Orioles cap, kept down low. A five o'clock shadow added to his attempt to look as far away from a military officer as he could. He headed up the steps to the third floor, then slowly down the hall, searching the numbers on the doors until he found Clay's apartment. He knocked once and waited patiently, but no one opened the door. After checking for prying eyes, he took out a small lock picking case and went to work.

The soft, long beep of the alarm system welcomed him. With an irritated sigh, he grabbed a flat head screwdriver and removed the face plate of the alarm keypad. It took him only a few seconds more to set up a patented CIA gadget to make the alarm believe the security code had been entered. Chris walked slowly into the area, taking in the impeccable apartment. On top of the coffee table he found a sealed bottle of Flor De Cana, along with several pictures of Clay and Mac. "Can't believe she dated a sap like you. She's so much better than that."

After placing them back on the table, he headed further into the apartment, searching out Clay's bedroom. The place was typical of a person that devoted so much time to the Agency. It was almost like a museum, kept immaculate and almost un-personable. Agents didn't really have much of a personality of their own. They were made and manufactured by the company.

There was a small desk in the bedroom on which a laptop sat with it's top open. He booted it up, used his abilities in technology to bypass the password and settled into recent documents. One of them, in particular, caught his eye. It was a journal that Webb was keeping on the laptop. Chris read an entry out loud. "_January 14th, 2005. Things have been, interesting and they have just gotten even more interesting. I believed I was needed as a head on the current mission I was getting intel on. But, what I was asked to do surprised me. I had been keeping tabs on Sarah, always hoping that, with Rabb gone, she'd come to me. It hasn't happened yet, but, if what they say is true, then she is in danger and I'll be damned if he hurts her again. . ."_

January 14, 2005  
CIA Headquarters  
Langley, Virginia

Clayton Webb was ushered into one of the plush offices in CIA headquarters believing to be discussing the details of the latest mission with Deputy Director Harrison Kershaw. He was dead wrong. Surprised by the man sitting behind the desk, Webb walked in timidly. Whoever decided to give Raymond Levine any type of power within the agency walls was insane. Raymond used to be the top trainer in the agency, the go to guy to create elite killing machines. He was the guy that taught Webb so much, but maybe not enough. "Hello Ray, fancy meeting you here."

"Clayton." Raymond smiled and pointed to a chair in front of his desk. "Always a pleasure."

"I thought I'd be speaking to Kershaw about a mission."

Raymond shook his head. "No, this was my baby, not Kershaw's." Just like before, when he used to train agents, he didn't believe in beating around the bush. There were a few key reasons why he needed Clay, pleasantries could be discussed in another venue. "I am referring to the Aurora disasters."

Clay sighed. Losing a plane was one thing, but losing both and not being exactly sure what to blame it on, was an entirely different aspect. "We had people trying to fix that mess, but it's difficult when it looks like. . ."

"I understand you were friends with Commander Rabb?" Raymond interrupted, waving off any attempt at Clay's sorry explanation.

"_Were_ being the operative word. . . Don't you think I've received my fair share of ass chewing over this?"

"Ass Chewing?" Raymond chuckled, he wasn't planning an ass chewing. He needed someone on the inside. "Clay, I just want to know a few things."

Webb sat there, slightly unsure at what was going on. After Paraguay and Tanveer, the agency had been giving him the crappiest gigs available. He was so sure that after the incidents with the Aurora's, they would kick him to the curb. "Okaaay." He drew out.

"_If _Commander Rabb survived." Raymond said slowly, putting great emphasis on the word 'if.' He almost sounded sure that Harm was alive.

Webb's hands came up in interruption. That was the most absurd thing anyone could think of considering what the "facts" on the mission had shown. "That is impossible. . . actually, it's implausible. _Both _planes blew up. That's what we saw on the radar aboard the Hawkeye."

Still Raymond had an agenda, a secret that no one knew and he was determined to get things fixed and squared away. "I said _if, _Clayton. . . _IF _Commander Rabb survived, who would he go to?"

"Who would he go to?" Clay found the question to be awfully weird considering they were talking about a dead man.

"Yes, let's say he was. . .being hunted."

He couldn't even stop himself before the words flew out of his mouth. "That's easy, Sarah MacKenzie." Clay said bitterly, always jealous over whatever special bond Harm and Mac had. A bond, he was sure, brought an end to the possibilities of him and Sarah.

Raymond caught the underlying tone and the spark of jealousy in Webb's eyes. This was good and exactly what he wanted. "You and the Colonel had something, yes?"

"I thought we had more than something. And you know very well what we had." He was bitter about that too, how those that used to respect him now laughed instead. Clay had become the screw up, the one that let feelings for a woman strip his better judgment. But, Mac wasn't just any woman. She was strong, tough, a Marine, everything he needed from a woman. That was until that dreadful day at Manderlee when, for the first time ever, she truly opened up to him. Mac had looked at him in disgust that day and all he could do was hate Rabb because he's who she chose to go home with that day. Damn him! Damn them! "Anyway, it's over and it has been for a long time. After Rabb's disappearance, she wants even less to do with me."

"Well, too bad because I have a job for you to do." Raymond grinned, his face taking on a slightly malicious look. "You are going to watch Colonel MacKenzie."

Okay, now Clay was confused. "Watch her? Why?"

This was the tricky part; how to give away enough information without blowing open the whole thing. "We aren't so sure that Commander Rabb is dead. . ." Raymond smirked as Webb's jaw dropped, it was clear that the super spy had lost a lot of his goods during the last few years. Good, it would be easier to play him that way. "This is difficult to say, him being your former friend and all, but, intel suggests that Commander Rabb may be alive and well." It was the truth, except that instead of being alive and well, Raymond knew what they were doing to Harm. All of this with Clay and Mac, was a precaution, in case a man, as determined as Harmon Rabb, would escape capture.

Webb closed his mouth, unsure as to whether he should be happy or not. In theory, Rabb was a friend once, they'd helped each other out. Still, he was now a rival, one that had the affections of the woman he loved. "But, we aren't going in after him, that would be against SOP." Now, he was sure that it was better of Harm was never found at all as the words bitterly came out of his mouth. "We can't endanger our own to find him."

"Actually, we might have to do just that, Clay." With a fake, disgusted sigh, Raymond stared down and shook his head. "We believe he has gone to the other side, that he has been bought."

Clay couldn't help but laugh. Of all of the crazy stories this one was just preposterous. "Someone buying Harm? Like him being a double agent?" The idea just sounded funnier and funnier. "You've gotta be kidding me. He's a boy scout, he would never. . ."

"Never say never, Mr. Webb. . ." Raymond said sternly, meeting Clay's gaze with a look that would kill. "Good men have turned before. You know that damned well."

"I know." Webb knew it was true. How many had been trusted and then betrayed their country? For money? "I'll watch her." . . .

0050 Zulu  
Clayton Webb's Condo  
Alexandria, Virginia

Chris chuckled as the passed through Clay's entries. Every single one had a mention of Mac and what she'd been doing that day. "Boy, you are one sick puppy, Webbie." He shook his head, slightly disgusted. "Okay. . . let's see here." He scrolled through the folders, finding two final entries, one dated about two months prior. _"May 1st, 2005. I've been up and down with, what I chose to call, the Case of the Missing Rabb. One minute, I remember how he was, how he'd never go to the other side. But, the intel states otherwise and today I was blown out of the water. . ."_

May 1st, 2005

Raymond Levine's Home

Alexandria, Virginia

Clay walked through the mansion, not fazed whatsoever by it's grandeur. His family estate, was much more luxurious and definitely older. Levine, as far as he remembered, was a nobody. Oh, his family had money, but he was always considered the runt of the litter, the bad boy until he was forced into the agency. "Nice digs, Ray. . .I don't remember you owning a multimillion dollar estate when you were training me."

Raymond led Clay into the study and got them both a glass of cognac. "It was my sister's. She and her husband passed away quite some time ago. They left it and their monies to me."

"Some sister, I can barely get mine to visit when it's my birthday." He responded sarcastically, timidly running his fingers around the brim of the glass. "What was so important that you needed me to head over here, on my first Saturday off in months."

"It's about Rabb." Nearly choking on his cognac as Webb paled, Raymond, rose out of his chair and moved towards a desk, picking up a file folder with the words 'CLASSIFED DOCUMENTS' inked across. He tossed the thick folder at Webb then came back to his seat. "A farmer in Canada found Andy Watson's body along with Rabb's service pistol. His prints were all over it and Watson was severely tortured."

Webb cringed at the grizzly image of the former Andy Watson. His body was slightly decomposed and whatever was left, had marks of unknown origin. It was pretty easy to deduce what Raymond was suggesting and Webb couldn't deny it anymore. "So that son of a bitch is alive. . .Any idea what his intentions are?"

Raymond shook his head. "No, but we have to stop him if he gets to Washington. God knows what he will do.". . .

July 5, 2005  
0102 Zulu  
Clayton Webb's Condo  
Alexandria, Virginia

. . .There was one more entry, the last of all of them ending two days ago. _"July 3, 2005. I visited Sarah today as it was her birthday. What I found made me sick to my stomach. But I guess, everyone deserves the benefit of the doubt. I can't believe that she would . . ._ Would what?" Chris yelled, hitting the cursor, hoping to bring up another part of the entry but it was all gone. Quickly, he searched through the computer for a backup, a hidden file, anything, but there was none. There was nothing at all. "Damnit, is Rabb at her place or not?" The notion of tapping Mac's apartment passed fleetingly through his head. Raymond Levine would _kill_ him if that happened. The Agency wasn't allowed to tap military personnel and Mac wasn't just any military officer, she was pretty well known within the agency's walls. "Guess I'll just have to go to her." He said with a satisfied smirk.

As she began packing up his equipment, he heard a noise in the front of the house, someone had walked in. Cursing inwardly, Chris hurried towards the window and noted the fire escape that was just a ledge away. He grabbed his bag, slung it over his shoulders and carefully climbed out onto the ledge. "Oh how I hate heights." He said with a hiss as his body flattened itself close to the wall.

There was laughter coming from inside; male and female laughter. "You know, this is the first date I've gone on in ages." He heard Clay's slurred voice say. The woman just laughed and murmured something incomprehensible. "Let's move this to my bedroom."

Once Clay walked in and turned on the lights he noticed the curtains flapping out of the window. Peeling himself from his female companion, he headed over. "I never leave anything open when I leave."

The woman, a blond haired, dark eyed agent smiled at him. "Well, it happens."

Clay shook his head. "I have central air, why would I open a window?" He pulled back the curtain and looked out to find a man heading down the fire escape. "Hey you!" The man looked up, but was unrecognizable with the baseball cap covering most of his face. "Hey! Stop!" After grabbing the pistol he kept in the nightstand, Clay rushed passed his 'friend' and headed down the stairs and onto the street, needing to jump back onto the curb as a black Escalade threatened to run him over. "Damnit!"

0250 Zulu  
Mac's Apartment  
Georgetown

Mac hadn't been able to sleep a wink, not that she would've wanted to anyway in fear that Harm would do something else to himself. As she watched him sleeping, she couldn't help but fill overcome with emotions. That was when reality hit; this was all too much for her. This wasn't something that they could handle together, as they'd handled so many things in the past. Butch and Sundance needed outside help and fast. Mac walked out of the room, leaving the door ajar in case Harm needed something. She placed the needle and vial on the coffee table, figuring she'd need it in order to find out if that was what he was using. And that's when the tears started.

She barely noticed them at first, but then they blurred her vision and the only thing she could see clearly was the bottle of vodka. A sob came from deep within, one that she hadn't even noticed she'd been suppressing. Then came another and another, each a remnant of the amount of pain she was in. Without another thought, she grabbed the bottle and the glass she always had nearby. The tears still rolled down her cheeks as she poured the white liquid into the glass. There were a million things in her head. A million reasons why she shouldn't do it. But, all of those reasons when to hell as she raised the glass to her lips.  
------

The ending is NOT as bad as you think, I promise. :)

Apion – I know!! Talk about major drooling here!

NK – There are some shipperish moments, but not overly shipperish because Harm needs to get well and things need to get solved. Story two will be more up your alley though. :)

Charmboy – You got your answer! ;) They'll help eachother out I promise

Nikki – I am mean, so each chapter tends to be meaner than the other. Dunno, I just have an idea, let it roll around in my head for a few days, thinking if people would kill me or not, if the answer is yes, I post away. :)

Cristina – Webb and Chris will have some things to deal with. ;)

Martini – Depends on yoru idea of good and please don't die!

JTB – Harm will come back, just not as strong as he is, cos there is a lot he has to deal with. They really did a number on him, more than you can imagine.

Carby – Mac is going to be surprised by Steele, he has a few ideas up his sleeves.

Froggy – Sheesh! The drool got OVER HERE!! Now wipe that off!! Damnit!! Ewww!! ;) Yea, Harm in tub. . .(swoon)


	9. From New Year’s To Valentine’s Day

Wow, lotta people sticking it out! Good for you! Heheh! Next, three to four chapters will be kinda up and down. When Harm gets better I am going to throw you H and M fans a bone, a small bone but a bone anyway. There is a sequel so I do get a chance to redeem myself for all of the nasty stuff in this story. ;)

Thanks to: XBlueShadowX, Aimee5, Charmboy4, starryeyes10, Nikki, dansingwolf, jag4ever, lei, Jackia, EternalSleep, Cristina, Tina Frank, achaon, Abigaile, Hieros Gamos, froggy0319, joanoa, JadeAlmasy, SpaceMan546, dansingwolf, carbygirl , JAGJenni, Manda, starryeyes, BiteBeccy, ng59678, LtColDevilDog, martini, mizukimarr, jtbwriter, Macaroon, Lissie, n.k, Lt.jgMegAustin, cbw, dansingwolf, Apion and anyone else I missed for the Feedback..

(AN: Lots of flashbacks in this chapter. You wanted to know what exactly happened to Harm, well, this is your chance to find out. I am still using the dates so I won't lose anyone! I hope I don't. If you can't figure something out, drop me a line or two or three. ;) Enjoy! PS: The Continuation would be on part 10. Didn't want to overwhelm anyone and I am keeping the descriptions short. I could do a very nasty torture scene, but, I would like the readers to be able to sleep at night ;)))

Part 9 – From New Year's To Valentine's Day

July 5, 2005  
0250 Zulu  
Mac's Apartment  
Georgetown

Harm awoke with a start and instantly knew something was wrong. Remaining silent, he heard the muffled sobs coming from the living room. It was Mac. There was a slight bit of physical strain involved to get his body responding, the drug always made him feel that way. He crossed the room and opened the door to find Mac sitting on the sofa. On her coffee table was the open bottle of vodka. It took him two seconds to realize what was happening and another two seconds to recall that she wasn't supposed to be drinking.

It was then that he saw her hand raise up, angling the glass with her lips. "Mac, don't." He said sternly.

Mac lowered the glass from her lips. Damnit why interrupt her when she was so willing to throw her life away? She hadn't even had a chance to take a sip yet. "You can't stop me."

Harm came to her side, placing his hand over the glass before she had a chance to take a taste. He tried taking it away, but her hold was so fierce he was surprised the glass didn't break. "Please, Mac. . . don't. Not because of me."

"And what if it's because of me?" She said loudly, pulling his hand away from hers as she stood up, still holding the glass in her hand. "What if the _stoic Marine _finally BROKE?" Mac headed into the kitchen, dumping the contents, once again, down the drain. Angrily, she threw the glass into the sink, sending glass flying. Relenting, she started working on cleaning the glass up when a shard cut her hand, the same one that had been cut when she was fighting with Clay so many moons ago. "Oww! Damnit!"

"I think this should go too." Harm stood at the entryway to the kitchen holding the bottle of vodka. "Mac?" He stared at the blood pouring from her hand and reached for a kitchen towel, which he used to wrap it up. "Where's the first aid kit?"

"Bathroom." She said with a hiss, characteristically masking the pain she was in.

Harm tugged her through the apartment, towards the bedroom, pushed her onto the bed and then headed into the bathroom, scrambling around until he found her first aid kit at the bottom of the cabinet. He wavered slightly, something which he'd gotten used to since the medication was pumping through his blood. Everything was slightly hazed and slow, but he'd gotten used to that to. Nearly a month addicted and he was a pro. "Okay, let's see here." He kneeled before her, removed the kitchen towel and started cleaning her up. Gently, he wiped the blood off, then poured a bit of hydrogen peroxide. Mac sucked in her breath, trying to remain strong. They were both silent as he studied the gash. "Well, thankfully it's not deep and you won't need stitches." He noted and proceeding on apply a healing ointment and a gauze pad.

Mac was mesmerized by how gently he was cleaning her up. It reminded her of the first time they went flying and how he'd taken the same care with the buckshot in her right thigh. She smiled a the memory of him being so timid in cleansing the wound with bourbon. "Why'd you do it?" She found herself asking as he fastened the gauze with medical tape. "The morphine. . . why?"

All of the items went back into the kit and under her cabinet, but as much as he tried to avoid things, he knew she needed answers. When he walked out of the bathroom, he found Mac still seated on the bed, with her head hanging low. "I am sorry you had to see me like that, Mac."

Mac's eyes locked onto him and, for the first time ever, she was afraid. Not afraid _of_ him, but afraid _for _him because she knew addictions too well. It wasn't something that a person, no matter how strong, would get over in a day. It took time and she wasn't sure if they had any left. "How long have you been shooting up?"

Harm took a deep, cleansing breath and sat at the edge of the bed. "Our of my own volition? About a month. . . Past that, I am not sure." He looked down at his hands, trailing his gaze up his arms to the nasty tracks that he wasn't really aware of until now. God, what he must look like to her. "I didn't really start it purposely. . . it was the only way to get home." He brought his body backwards, leaning against the headboard and was surprised when Mac turned so that she could look at him. It was now or never. "I didn't lie to you either, Mac. I thought it was a cross-country qual. I figured, I'd land at Fallon, hitch a flight over to California to visit the folks and I'd be back to celebrate the New Year with you."

"The CIA changed your plans." She stated with a frown. Why was it always, as they believed they'd left the agency behind, things would come and bite them on the six?

He sorted. The CIA did more than change his plans, they changed his life. "Yes, only I didn't know about it until I was in the air and about ten minutes away from landing at Fallon. . ."

December 27th, 2004  
1300 Zulu  
Somewhere above Nevada

. . .The ride had been an excellent, beautiful clear blue skies and not a single air pocket. The Hornet was maneuvering like a dream. It wasn't the Tomcat that he loved so much, but it would do. Hell, anything supersonic and air bound would do. "Fallon Control Center, this is Hornet 5-2-2, ETA ten minutes."

There were some words mumbled over the line and Harm worked on trying to clean the reception. "Come again? I could not hear you, I repeat, I could not hear you."

"Hornet 5-2-2, you are being redirected. Again, Hornet 5-2-2, you are being redirected." The moments those words came through loud and clear, Harm felt the butterflies in his stomach. Usually, the radio operator would give a reason for the redirection. This time, he got nothing, just silence.

"10-4, what are the new coordinates?" He entered the coordinates into the onboard computer and noted that it was south from Fallon. The Navy had plenty of places to land supersonic jets, but the coordinates left him baffled. As he headed southward, he kept in touch with Fallon who requested that he fly a higher altitude.

"Hornet 5-2-2 this is Groom Lake, we have you on radar, ETA fifteen minutes, confirm."

Harm breathed deeply, closing his eyes for a moment. Flying into Groom Lake only meant one thing: CIA involvement. "Affirmative Groom Lake." Fifteen minutes later, he saw the abnormally long runway used for the test planes that flew out of there. Groom Lake wasn't your normal military installation, it was as classified as classified got. The problem with classified was trying to hide them away from prying eyes. In this case, it was hidden in plain sight and known throughout the world as Area 51. . .

July 5, 2005  
0310 Zulu  
Mac's Apartment  
Georgetown

. . . "You've been to Area 51? I bet Bud would love to hear about that." Mac mused with a grin. "I guess that's where you learned to fly the Aurora."

Harm's eyes went wide. "How'd you know that? It's all supposed to be hush hush."

"Webb told me." She said with a sheepish expression. "He said you were one of the best."

Harm frowned. Yes, he had been one of the best, but he had a partner back then. One that was now gone for good and it was all his fault. "Right away Allen Blaisdell, my boss when I was working for the Agency, had me head into the hangar where they kept the Aurora's. . . I suited up and we went in for briefing. Apparently, the Agency was teaching some 'new recruits' about the planes as they would be the next pilots. They wanted myself and Andy Watson, a test pilot I initially flew the Aurora with, to show the newbies how the aircraft worked." A moment later, Harm got a far away look in his eyes. He was reliving all of it, with such vivid clarity that it hurt. With a dry chuckle, he glanced up at Mac and then away, ashamed at what had happened. "Apparently the newbies had other ideas. . . There were two planes, Andy and I each flew one, with one of the new guys in the back. We got air bound, headed north to the pole and as we were heading back, I start getting all these crazy signals on the plane. . . These aren't your common F-14, F-18 types. The Aurora flies close to the atmosphere. It gives you time to figure out what is going on, but if something goes wrong and you don't fix it fast. . ." He shook his head fiercely concerned about one major thing about flying that high and that fast. "I don't even want to _think_ of an ejection from that plane."

And Mac didn't either. She'd read an article once about a pilot ejecting when the plane was going too fast. The amount of physical destruction on the pilot's body was insane. It was a miracle he was even alive. "I can't blame you." She sympathetically placed a hand on his forearm and silently urged him to continue.

"I was in contact with the Hawkeye who was also showing all of the malfunction lights. So they contacted Andy. . .his plane is also going haywire. . . The mission gets cut short and we're trying to, at least, get the planes back to base. But the new guys had other ideas. . .They knocked us out." Closing his eyes, Harm still felt the jolt of electricity that forced him into unconsciousness.

Mac was baffled. "How'd they knock you and Andy out? In mid-air no-less?"

"Apparently they slipped something into our suits which jolted us out of consciousness. Since they entered in new coordinates and the planes could, effectively, fly themselves. . .it didn't matter whether or not the pilots were conscious." The whole thing was just too easily put together, if you asked him. If tampering with equipment on a normal military base was difficult, tampering with something at Area 51 was damned right impossible. "They had to have someone on the inside. . . Next thing I know, I'm someplace really cold laying on a stone floor. . ."

December 27th, 2004  
1920 Zulu  
Somewhere In Canada

". . .Wake up, Commander." A man, with an accent that Harm couldn't quite place, barked. "I said, WAKE UP COMMANDER." The man yelled louder, shoving the edge of his steel-toe boot into Harm's side. "Attaboy!"

Moving proved to be some sort of mission. His body felt like lead, his head was aching and his eyes refused to open. When he finally got his body to cooperate, Harm wished he would have remained unconscious. The place seemed to be an old cabin built out of nothing but wood and stone. At some point, the place would have been quite cozy, now, as the cold Canadian air rustled through the establishment, cozy was the farthest thing from his mind. "Where, where am I?"

"Doesn't really matter, does it?" The man said with such a hint of amusement.

Looking up, Harm felt his stomach tighten in anger. "You." The person staring down at him was Robert Gimmel, the pilot that he was supposed to be training during the mission. Next to him stood a woman and man, both appearing to be of middle-eastern decent, along with Jack Hayes, the man Andy was flying with. Andy, that reminded him. "Where's my partner?" All four men spoke, in what he knew was Farsi. Well, he wasn't all that sure, but he'd been around Mac long enough, to catch a familiar word or two. "Hey! Where's Andy Watson."

Temir, the Mid-Eastern man, and the head of the operation, snapped his fingers. "Bring in Mr. Watson." Two other men dragged in the semi-conscious body of Andy Watson. "Put him next to the Commander." They practically threw Andy's body to a spot near Harm's.

Harm turned Andy over, finding his face to be a bloodied mess, they'd been beating him. "What the hell is going on?" He searched out a pulse and was glad to find it slow and steady. "Why'd you do this?"

Temir squatted next to Harm, chuckling earnestly. "You really do not know, do you." He ran a hand down Harm's cheek, then slapped him as hard as he could. "Don't worry, Commander. We'll get to you soon. But, I have a few others to interrogate. . ."

July 5, 2005  
0310 Zulu  
Mac's Apartment  
Georgetown

". . .They just left us there." He said evenly, looking away slightly as the pain registered in his eyes. "I couldn't tell you how long it was, but it felt like days. Maybe even a week or two." Harm clutched his jaw tightly. "They would feed us this, gruel, something like rotten oatmeal. For water they would melt snow and give us that. It made us so sick, everything we ate would come back up. . .And then the real pain came."

"Harm, you don't have to talk about this." There were aspects in life that she was sure she couldn't handle. Harm being tortured was one of them. God, how she hand thanked the Heavens that he wasn't in Paraguay in Webb's stead. It was a cruel way to think, but she knew she'd have given in to anything that Sadik wanted just to free Harm and stop his pain. Part of her felt guilty now, for being so angry about his disappearance. She wanted to hold him in her arms and protect him from the world.

But, Harm was determined to relive his life underground again. He needed to get it all out before it drove him mad. "They sat Andy and I next to each other with our backs to Temir's goons." Brining his hands up, he stared down at his fingers, surprised that the marks weren't there. "They started simple, shoving pieces of shaved tree bark under our fingernails. . . I was able to hold back from screaming, but Andy. . .he couldn't help it. . . and I think that was the worst, because the more he screamed, the more unnerved I got."

"What happened to Jack and Robert?" Mac asked out of curiosity.

Harm chuckled bitterly. "They wound up dead as well. Mercifully, with a bullet through their brains."

Mac was shocked. "Why?"

"They got too greedy and Temir doesn't like greed." He brought his hands up to his arms, warming his body that had suddenly gotten so cold from the memories. "They wanted us to tell them anything we knew, they didn't care what. But, there was one thing. . . it was the most important thing: how to use the Aurora."

"Why didn't they keep Robert and Jack around for that?" She spread out on the bed, turning to one side so she could look at Harm. He seemed to look sadder, hardened, like the world had come down on him. Mac knew very well what was going on, part of him was still back there. It had happened to her as well.

Harm shrugged. "I don't think they knew enough. You can't go around asking for more money when you don't know what the hell you're doing. . . I remember them trying to start up the planes and not even that went right. . . God they would spend so much time without bothering us and just as you thought they'd forgotten about you. . ."

February 14, 2004  
1210 Zulu  
Somewhere In Canada

". . .Andy, sit up." Harm shoved the dead weight of Andy Watson's body with his shoulder.

Slowly, Andy sat up and sat shoulder to shoulder with Harm. His body was shaking.. "I am freezing."

"So am I." Harm replied softly. From the small window, he could see the snow falling outside. Just like every day before, it was gloomy, fitting for their moods. "Jack and Robert were killed."

Andy shuttered, he'd worked with Jack and Robert for nearly two years. They were friends, or so he thought. "I'd never have thought that they would have done that. . . They were my friends. Damnit, we used to get together during the weekend. . . I trusted them."

That catchy X-files phrase suddenly came to Harm's mind: Trust No One. Yep, that was apparently the way to live within the agency. Maybe it was the way to live during life as well? He felt the weight of Andy's body on his again and this time, it was welcomed because he needed the body heat. Bringing his hands up to his face, he blew into them, trying to warm them up. The gloves that pilots were required to wear, had long since been taken away. He glared over towards the vase with a single, dead rose. Temir had placed it there as a present for Valentine's Day. Though Harm despised the man, he was grateful that he was, once again, allowed to figure out what day it was. Hopefully, he could keep track of things, though, he figured, eventually he wouldn't care.

Valentine's Day. With a grunt, he sat up, placing Andy's body gently on the floor as he walked over to the flower. Roses always reminded him of Mac. How many people have the unique chance of meeting their other half in a rose garden? "I miss you, Mac." He said quietly, hoping not to wake the other three that were locked up with him and Andy. "Just when I get my head out of my six, this happens." He snorted bitterly, things were apparently never going to be right for them. "I had so many dreams that I wanted to fulfill with you. I'll try to get home. Just please, hold on." Closing his eyes, he wrapped one hand around the vase, envisioning Mac and that smile of hers that always brought him warmth. He loved her so much that it physically hurt.

Temir had managed to sneak into the cabin and was standing to the side, watching Harm with amusement. It was going to be fun breaking him. It was all he was looking forward to. Taking a 45mm out of his leg holster, Temir rose the gun and pulled the trigger.  
---------------

Dansingwolf – She's always had trouble with it, just was trying to hide it, like Mac always does. She is going to ask for help on this Harm problem, as much as I am sure she would like to, I don't think she can take care of him detoxing on her own.

Joanoa – You were right! Harm saves Mac! And It was a little shipperish with him cleaning her up. :) You get an A!!

Xblue – LOL! Your reviews crack me up! Calix! Lock her up!! ;) Yea, I do ignore all of the ebilish reviews. We ebil people tend to like em. ;) They amuse me. I can write it, but I am just NOT into the whole fluffyness thing. So with these, you get emotion, tension, angst and a lil lovin all at once. ;)

Nikki – I did warn people that it would be dark! Which, I should have been really mean and gone "Dooooods! This story is SUPER FLUFFY!!! So Sweet you'll get a tooth ache!!" And then WHAM! Naw, I am not that bad! So you have NO ideas how it will turn out? Good! Because I don't either. I have an idea of how I am going to end this story but still writing around it. ;) It will end with a bang though. Heheh.

Nk – Chris is a baddie, a true baddie. And not one of these bad guys you feel remorse for. . . newp! He's a born killing machine. But, he's going to get a few. . .umm. . . shots from Mac. ;)

Manda – I am a cliffhanger junkie!! Can't you tell?! Hehehe

BiteBeccy – I'll hand you my anti-Heebie-geebie cream! Dream team will get help soon, no worries!

Tina – I think everyone hates Chris more than Webb at this point.

Harmfan – Hey, do you really want Chris over at Mac's house!?

Jtbwriter – Mac's good, she hasn't really had any alcohol. Harm on the other hand was doing it to get home. He'll clean up! We'll give him some TLC and all is good. 

Froggy – Steele doesn't have anything to do with Harm's capture, but someone else does. Steele is pretty much there working for he CIA, undercover, in order to bring Harm in if he's with Mac.

Charmboy – Everyone's fav spook is going to have a few issues to deal with at the end of this story. One issue is a very pissed of Marine Lt. Colonel. ;)


	10. Too Tired To Give Up

Hey gang!

Here's another part. I am surprised the story has lasted this long. When I started writing it I figured it would wrap up in about 8-10 chapters. It's looking like I can probably get 15-16 chapters out of this baby before going to the sequel. :) I just finished editing part 13 and started adding to part 14. Basically I have the story layed out by chapters along with conversations and then I add in the rest. Somewhere around Part 3 I thought I'd bitten off more than I could chew, but I've surprised myself!

Thanks to: XBlueShadowX, Aimee5, Charmboy4, starryeyes10, Nikki, dansingwolf, jag4ever, lei, Jackia, EternalSleep, Cristina, Tina Frank, achaon, Abigaile, Hieros Gamos, froggy0319, joanoa, JadeAlmasy, SpaceMan546, dansingwolf, carbygirl , JAGJenni, Manda, starryeyes, BiteBeccy, ng59678, LtColDevilDog, martini, mizukimarr, jtbwriter, Macaroon, Lissie, n.k, Lt.jgMegAustin, cbw, dansingwolf, Apion, alix33, jnp, MacHarm4Ever, Tania, Macaroon, harmfan, and anyone else I missed for the Feedback..

PART 10 – Too Tired To Give Up

July 5, 2005  
0330 Zulu  
Mac's Apartment  
Georgetown

Harm sighed. "I was thinking of you. Of how I lov. . .cared for you so much." He didn't look at her then, for fear of her seeing the nightmares in his eyes. "I was, saying some silent prayer, that I would come back, that we could fix things and then I heard the gun shot. . . I didn't even know Temir was there."

"He didn't shoot you?" It was more of a statement than a question. Mac had checked every inch of his body along with Steve and knew that Harm didn't have any bullet wounds. Hell, if he'd been shot, with all of the things that he'd been describing, he probably wouldn't be alive now. Mac swallowed hard at that thought and chastised it down.

Harm shook his head. "No, he shot David Anderson, a Marine Gunny that was originally sent in by the CIA to capture Temir." There was blood all over the floor, brains splattered against the wall and onto Andy and the other two captives. Harm had rushed Temir, trying to take the gun away from him. For his efforts he received a strong kick to his midsection and a whack over the head with the pistol. "I know I was out for a while because of hit. . .When I came to, God. . . All I wanted was to be unconscious again." He stared at her now, then looked away, ashamed of what he was going to say. "When I had the ramp strike, I wanted to die. . . Things were, out of control, I had to learn to walk again, Mace's death was on my conscience . .But, I had people helping me, pushing me. . . Christ Mac, when I woke up, Temir's men had me strung up by my ankles. . .They rolled down my flight suit and ripped my undershirt so my chest was bare. . . Steel wool and car batteries."

Mac shivered visibly, looking away from him at the thoughts of him suffering that pain. Clay's screams echoed in the distance. She didn't want to imagine those glottal cries coming from Harm. "Sadik happily told me once that it was amazing how much power a car battery held."

"Yea." His mind was already back there, suffering the pain all over again.

February 15, 2004  
0610 Zulu  
Somewhere In Canada

Shock. His body was going into shock. Everything was shutting down. Harm prayed, to God. But reprieve didn't come. "Oh God." The words came out before he had a chance to hold them back. But, that's when the men stopped torturing his body. When he finally managed to open his eyes and look around, he noticed that he was in a barn and he was hanging upside down.

Temir smirked as he walked towards Harm. "Yes, Allah is all around us. He is good and merciful. It is he that allows this to continue." He grabbed a whip from one of the stables and bent it a few times. "But, Harmon. . ." He dragged the tip of the whip down Harm's back, stopping to smack him once. Squatting down, he grabbed Harm's hair and tugged his head back. "We'll make a deal, yes? Pray to Allah, or whatever you want to call him. . . Pray for a sign. And when he sends it, I will stop." He stepped back, gave the whip a good swing.

The crack from the whip had Harm tensing. He closed his eyes tightly, preparing himself for the first lash. It seemed Temir liked mental torture as well as physical. Several times the whip would crack close to his body, but just not close enough. Maybe Allah had given him a sign? No dice. He managed to bite back from screaming from the first lash. The second landed on fresh skin. The third landed between both of the previous lashes. He bit is lower lip so hard that it bled. By the fourth lash, he could no longer help but cry out.

Twenty minutes later, after his body had passed out from the exertion, Harm was placed back in the cabin. But, Temir was not tired of messing with his play things. He reached for Andy Watson next.

March 3, 2005  
1810 Zulu  
Somewhere In Canada

If you'd have asked any of the captured what day it was, non of them could give you an answer. All they knew was that it was cold and miserable. One of the other men captured, a CIA agent named Leslie McMahan had died two days prior from, what Harm figured, was pneumonia. It was a surprisingly sunny day outside, something different from the impending gloom that plagued the weather for most of their stay.

"S-sir?" Harm turned to find Marine Sergeant Luis Davies, David Anderson's partner, starting at him with cold eyes. "We're all going to die, aren't we sir?"

Harm would have liked to have said no, but it wasn't looking good. All of the bravado, all of his beliefs in his country had been beaten out of him. He was shattered. "I think so, Luis. . .and I told you to call me Harm." Angrily, he scrubbed at a cut on his hand, a gift given to him from the woman that had now taken over the job from one of Temir's men. They had come for Andy again, and, as Harm tried to overpower the young woman, she took out a knife. It wasn't a deep cut, thankfully she didn't seem to be very skilled as the others. "We have to try and escape."

Luis shook his head. "We can't. . .Before you came, someone tried and they. . . shot him."

"Being shot is a welcome death compared to what Leslie went though." Harm said out loud, no longer caring about censoring his thoughts. "Everyone probably thinks we're dead anyway." He spat out bitterly. He could only imagine what yarn they spun to his friends and family. True, he was, officially Navy. But, the unofficial part is what sucked. Even if you slightly worked for the CIA, they owned a part of you. He knew he should have never taken this mission. But, what was he supposed to do? Fly to Fallon and ignore an order? With a hiss, he managed to stand and walk around the small cabin. As much as he'd wanted someone to find him, he knew of only would person that could.

July 5, 2005  
0345 Zulu  
Mac's Apartment  
Georgetown

"I did try, Harm. . . Everyday, sometimes so much I'd be drained from the effort." Mac frowned. What good was her 'gift' if she couldn't find the man she loved?

Harm slid down on the bed and laid next to her. His hand softly traced her facial features, stopping to wipe away a tear that cascaded down her cheek. "I didn't want you to find me, Sarah."

The words struck her so hard, she didn't even register that he'd called her by her given name. "What?"

"I gave up on praying for something to get me out of there because I knew it wouldn't happen, so I prayed for something else." He gazed at her intently, her big brown eyes pulling him in like a magnet. Harm hoped she would forgive him. "I prayed that you wouldn't find me. . . that your gift would stop working for me."

"Why?" She choked out, finally understanding how strong the connection truly was between them.

Harm sighed. "I couldn't. . .Didn't want you to be there too. . . I didn't want you to rush in there and have them take you too." He brushed off the tear that fell from his eyes as the thoughts of Mac being hurt came to his mind. "God, Mac all I could think about was walking in and finding you on that table in Paraguay. . . I couldn't see you there again. . . I didn't care about dying and by then I was so tired that torture was just routine. . . It's you I care about. . .I would have told them anything if it meant keeping you alive and unhurt."

Mac sat up, turning away from him. Now it made sense. She wasn't defective, she wasn't useless. Somehow he'd stopped her for her sake. Because he loved her, though he didn't say so, she felt it now, stronger than ever. "I would have given anything to save you, Harm."

"You did, Mac. . . getting back was what kept part of me from going crazy."

Slowly she turned and laid back next to him. She extended her hand, trailing her hands over his arms. "Then why this? What is it some sick consolation prize to make you a junkie?"

Harm shook his head. "No. . .that was their idea of fun. They'd use the morphine to take the edge away which only made it hurt more in the end."

April 19, 2005  
2300 Zulu  
Somewhere In Canada

The woman was a bit of an enigma to him. Her eyes were dark and mysterious, almost like Mac's, Harm decided. One of Temir's men kept a filthy boot on Harm's chest, pinning him down to the ground as the woman kindly shoved the needle into his vein. He groaned in protest and was awarded with a kick to his ribs, it was a miracle they hadn't broken yet.

As she finished, Harm saw something in the woman's eyes. If he wasn't totally delusional, he saw kindness and maybe love? He'd noticed her watching him, sometimes as if in pain over what they did to him. They would force her to partake, which she did due to fear of being of the captives herself. When she walked out of the cabin, he was completely alone. Andy had been taken again for questioning. Luis had finally cracked and as a result, was shot in the head, something that Harm was welcoming more and more with each passing day. Along with his daily shots of morphine, the woman would inject something that had to have been an antibiotic. At least, that is what he figured, if not some sort of infection would have claimed his life by now.

The drug worked it's magic on his body, causing him to fall into a hazy sleep. When he awoke, he found Andy's bloodied body laying next to his. When had they brought him in? Was he so out of it that he couldn't remember? "Andy?" He nudged him gently, turning the man over so that he could check and make sure he was alive. "Hey, Andy? Andy, stay with me pal." He practically pleaded.

A glottal groan was his response as his eyes slowly adjusted and focused on Harm. "Harm?"

"Yea, it's me. . ." Standing, Harm helped Andy get as comfortable as they could on the stone floor. The man was looking at him with this strange expression as if he knew he was going to die. They'd all thought of it before, it was difficult not to. But, from Andy's expression, Harm saw the man finally giving up.

His breathing was shaky, shallow. "I can't take anymore. . ."

"You have to." Harm said as gently as possible.

"No." Andy drew out as his eyes searched out Harm's. "No I don't. . .Look, if we tell them. . .."

"They'll kill us anyway. I know we're going to die, but I'd prefer to die with some dignity."

Andy snorted at that. "Dignity? Buddy, that was taken away from us the day we got here. . .At least death would come quicker."

Though Harm agreed on Andy's last point, the fighter in him wouldn't be ready to give up. "I am too tired to give up."

Their conversation came to a halt as the door opened and Temir stood by. "Aah. You're awake. . . good." He pointed to the two men and ordered, "Bring them both. . . I have an idea."

As was done each and every time they were taken out of their cell, Andy and Harm were blindfolded and cuffed. They were led out of the cabin, down a path they couldn't see and into, what Harm not-so-lovingly called: the Terror Room. Even blindfolded he knew where he was. There was that stench of rotting flesh that always welcomed him. It was mixed with a smell of mold, humidity and something that he couldn't quite put his finger on. "On your knees, Commander." Temir said, sweeping Harm's legs so that he would drop roughly onto the floor. Harm cringed as he felt his bad knee ache, but defiantly, he bit back a scream. When the blindfold was removed, he was able to look up at Temir who was pacing with a CIA file folder in his hand. The folder was held up and inside was a file labeled 'WANTED FOR TREASON' along side of Harm's USN photo. "You are a sailor, yes? Well, I hope you can hold your breath."

Once he was turned around, he found himself kneeling before a tank of putrid water. Mold and algae were in the corners of the tank and he could see the itty particles of larvae floating through it. He barely got a chance to take a breath before his head was shoved under. At first, he tried not to fight, to concentrate on something else as he held his breath. But soon, as the nitrogen filled his blood, a little voice from deep inside kept telling him to breathe in.

After what seemed to be a lifetime, they rose his body up, allowing him a few precious moments to take a deep breath. "Look at the Commander, Mr. Watson, don't you want to help him?"

Harm shot Andy a look as best he could. "Damnit Watson, don't you dare!" For his outburst, his head was shoved back into the water and this time, he could feel the murky substance invading his mouth, nose and finally his lungs. When they rose him back up, he retched all of the water, sputtering a few times as it came out of his lungs.

Temir just stood by, laughing as Harm tried to get his bearings. "You are a strong man, Commander. When we are done with you, Allah should be very delighted to have you in his company."

"FUCK YOU." He ground out angrily and was surprised when, for once, they didn't do anything in retaliation. At least, not to him. He heard a thud followed by a groan. It was Andy.

Looking towards the left, he found Andy being strung up by his wrist and hoisted up. Harm knew what was coming next. "Don't do this. . . Please!" Andy said, moving as best as he could to turn towards Temir. "Please, sir. . .I'll tell you anything!"

"Andy NO!" Harm yelled. He tried to stand, to stop the savagery that was about to happen and was easily brought down again. "You gave an oath. . ."

He was sobbing so badly that his body shook from the exertion. "It doesn't mean anything anymore, Harm. . .I'm sorry."

Temir stared up at Andy, tapping his chin in thought. "I don't think you are going to tell me the truth, Mr. Watson. Besides, what I really need is everything the Commander knows." He grinned and signaled for the men to start using the car batteries and steel wool. Harm tried to look away, but they turned his head, and held his eyes open, forcing him to watch each gruesome shock.

In the end, Andy Watson gave them nothing, proving to be stronger than even Harm believed him to be. "Oh God. . . Please take me now. . .Please."

"Ah, another who wishes for Allah's mercy?" Temir took a pistol out of one of the guard's holsters and held it against Andy's head. "What do you think, Commander? Point and shoot?" Harm looked away, which only gave him another idea. Temir walked swiftly towards Harm, emptied all but one bullet from the pistol and handed it to Harm who looked up at him with a questioning glance. "It's not for you to shoot me, Commander. If you try, these men will kill you and Mr. Watson in the most heinous way. I am not sure you want that."

Harm shrugged. "So what's it for?"

"Point and shoot." Temir pointed towards Andy, then grinned down at Harm who stared at him in disbelief.

He just dropped the gun as if it had burnt him. "I am not shooting my partner."

"Well, either you do, or we give him another round. Either way he is going to die."

Harm stared at Andy whom he could hear muttering incoherently. "I am not murdering anyone."

"Oh come now, Commander. You were a fighter pilot, surely you must know that you've murdered before. Even if it was for America, you still did it. . .And this would be an act of kindness. . .of humanity."

"How did I get so lucky?" He stated with sarcasm as he weighed the gun in his hand.

Temir squatted down next to Harm and lifted his head up by his chin. "Allah likes you. He likes your friend too. . .It's time for them to meet."

"Do it, Harm!" Andy managed to scream before his body was wracked again with sobs that would never ever leave Harm's memory. "Please." He whispered, opening his eyes as best he could to stare at his friend. "Please."

"God forgive me." The pistol came up and Harm fought hard against the shakes his body was giving him. This was a colleague, a friend. He was doing it only because he was begged to. Angling the weapon, he pointed as best he could towards Andy's head then pulled the trigger. As Andy Watson's life came to an end, all Harm could wish for was to have another bullet so he could turn the gun on himself.

July 5, 2004  
0420 Zulu  
Mac's Apartment  
Georgetown

"I killed him." Harm cried as Mac soothingly wrapped her arms around his body. So it was true, but not quite the way the CIA had painted it. It wasn't murder, it was some macabre act of humanity; a request from a friend. "I kill him, Mac. . . And later, I find out. It was MY gun. . .They'd used MY service weapon."

Mac was fighting back her own tears as she soothed him. What he had gone through, no one should have been allowed. She wished, with all of her might that Temir got his along with anyone else that helped his asinine methods. "How did you escape?" She asked gently, pulling him out of her embrace as she was worried about hurting him.

"The woman." He said gently. "The woman helped me escape."

June 12, 2005  
2100 Zulu  
Somewhere In Canada

Harm still couldn't tell you what day it was, but by the temperature, he could tell they were heading towards spring. The days were a bit warmer, the sun shone a bit brighter and his mood was as dark as ever. Somehow, he'd managed to survive on pure luck. Well, luck and the fact that Temir's men were tailing a Canadian Army convoy in hopes of snatching their weapons.

The woman, one who he knew spoke English but refused to speak to him, had been a godsend. He realized that, in her own way, she was caring for him. It was, after Andy had died and he'd received a fresh round from Temir's boys that he realized they'd been shooting him up with morphine. No, they weren't being merciful, only managing his pain so that the next round of torture would hurt just as bad as before. It was those moments between pain management and torture that were the worst.

Mac was still in his mind but becoming a distant memory. It's not that he didn't want to think of her, but he was afraid that any thought process would tip her off to his location. Yes, she was strong, tough, a fine Marine, but even fine Marine's had gotten themselves into messes with mad men. Harm would never forgive himself if she'd been a casualty of whatever this was. The separation had hurt him more than any infliction of pain could. But, what nearly broke him was a the day that he'd swore to himself that he'd stop thinking about Mac. That day, his heart broke in pieces.

"It didn't work." He'd barely heard Temir enter the room and only really came to when he found his head being yanked up. It was a miracle he had any hair left at all. "It didn't work." He was referring to the codes Harm had given him in order to start up the Aurora's.

Harm looked at the man and laughed, the codes were fake. By now, he was so desperate for death that some of his wit was starting to surface. He was trying anything to piss them off enough to have them whack him. "What? You mean the instructions you got of the Internet were no good? That sucks!" But, maybe the comedic approach was a bad idea? "Oooof." The punch to his gut wasn't expected, not that he could do anything if it were. He hadn't had anything but moldy bread and water for the past two weeks. "That all you got?" He ground out and received another punch in the gut. Harm was baiting him, hoping to God his death would come quickly. But, God disappointed him once again as he heard Temir's men calling him out.

"You and I, Commander. . . We'll finish this later." He spat.

Harm gave him a mock salute and whatever grin he could muster. "Looking forward to it."

A few minutes had past before he saw the woman coming into his cabin. There was a stillness in the air, the same he'd felt when the men were gone. "You no speak to Temir like that." She said in a heavy accented form of English.

His eyes widened. "You speak English."

"Little." The woman took a wet rag and passed it over his dry and cracked lips, causing him to wince. "I sorry."

"Why are you helping me?" She had started working on the wounds on his arms, covering them with some sort of goo that resembled aloe. "What's your name?"

"Khadija." She head kept low, as if in shame that she was even speaking to him.

"Khadija, that's a pretty name." He sat up a bit, wincing as the pain from his fresh whip marks were getting the best of him. "You are different from the men. . . At first you would hurt me, why not now?"

"They not know what they do." She said simply, taking another swipe at the gash on his forehead. "Tell them what you know. They won't stop until you do."

Harm shook his head. "I can't. They'll have to kill me."

"They won't." She stared firmly, her eyes never leaving his. "They stop, wait for you to better. Then start again." Tugging at his arm, she showed him the pinprickish mark. "I give pain medicine. But, pain will be more soon."

As she worked on helping Harm, another man stepped into the cabin, barked a few words in Farsi. To him, it seemed like she'd had enough of it all, or maybe he was just wishing for it. They were arguing back and forth and, to Harm's surprise, the woman took out a pistol and shot the man. Quickly after, she turned to Harm and handed him the gun. "You free. . . Run."

Harm stared at the weapon in disbelief. Was this just some sort of trick? What if he were to be punished worse for trying to escape? "Why are you helping me?" She helped him stand and head out of the cabin. Once outside the sun shone down on him, making his eyes squint from the bombardment of light.

Khadija led him through, what appeared to be, a small village and into another cabin that housed the weapons. "Take cloths off." Doing as told, he stripped down to his skivvies as she handed him fresher clothing to wear. She set him up with another pistol and slid into his pocket two vials of morphine and a needle. "It will help." She walked him to the barn, the place were Harm had spent so many days and nights at the brink of losing sanity, then walked towards the back where some sort of military looking jeep was housed. "You go now. . . Small time."

Harm nodded and jumped into the jeep. It was taking all of his efforts not to pass out, but he would do that later, once he could do more than taste freedom. She explained, as best possible where their location was on a map. From what Harm cold decipher, they were being held somewhere near the Maritimes in Canada. Good, at least he hadn't somehow wound up out of North America. Reaching his hand out, he offered it to her. "Come with me."

"I cannot. . . You go."

"But they'll kill you for helping me."

She smiled slightly as his chivalry and shook her head. "I die soon. . . Cancer. . . You go. . go!" Leaning towards Harm, she kissed him softly on the lips then stepped away, a blush tainting her cheeks.

"Thank you. May Allah help you." Without any other words, Harm put the jeep in gear and started down an un-maintained gravel road when he spotted both spy planes. He drove the jeep towards them and left it running as he jumped out and went under one plane and then the other, removing an integral part of it's organs: the master circuit board. "Let's see you try to use these babies now." He said with a grin, then headed back to the jeep.

July 5, 2005  
0430 Zulu  
Mac's Apartment  
Georgetown

"It took me nearly a month to get home. I had to find a way to evade the boarder guards. Sometimes I walked, sometimes I hitchhiked." Harm sighed deeply. "I had to get home and when I did, I didn't find the relief I was looking for." He said with a frown. No, when he got home, he was met with the notion that the Agency really did believe he was a traitor. "I tried going to my apartment first, I don't know why. . .force of habit. And when I got there, I found two Agents casing the place. . . I somehow managed to knock them both out then got a look at the file in their possession." The file had nothing more than the details he already knew, they were looking for him.

Mac shook her head in disgust. "Yea, Clay's been coming by for the same reason. He believed you'd show up here. They sent him to capture you if you did."

"I'm sorry I got you into this mess. It's the last thing I wanted." He turned away with her, hating that he didn't think any better about the situation he'd put her in. "I'm so sorry." But, Mac wrapped a hand over his, soothing the demons that he wasn't sure would ever leave him.

"It's what we do Harm and I intend on seeing this through because I am nothing without you." What she said had an effect on him, more than a thousand declarations of love. Sarah MacKenzie wasn't the type to wear her emotions so close to the sleeve, neither was he for that matter which always made them clash in matters of the heart. When she opened her arms to him, Harm could do nothing more than allow her to take away his pain.

--

Jackia – Harm will be alright and he'll have a new adventure. . .With Mac. ;)

Alix – Thank you! This story is different, that's for sure. The dynamic duo will get out of this one. :)

JNP – I like cliffhangers, a lot. Actually, some just happen. I write, get to a part and go "Okay stopping here, next chapter please."

Jtbwriter – LOL! See! I am not THAT bad! I added some hope! Webb the weasel is going to have something of his own to deal with soon enough. ;) And he will be bugging our duo in the future, just not how everyone thinks.

Carby – Mac and Steele. . . He's going to ask for it and it's been fun putting that scene together. Actually, Steele's gonna get it from Bud first. ;)

Charmboy – You lazy person you! – Spook's will get sixes kicked soonish!

Bite Beccy – You were right! The gun shot did not hit Harm, but it was a nice cliffhanger. ;)

Nikki – I have you nervous? I am sorry! But, trust me, it's a good bang. – God that sounds sick. LOL!

LtJGmeg – Webb's involvement, in a nutshell is because the CIA needs someone "on the inside" of Mac's life to see if Harm makes contact with her. What's happened is that, since he still cares for her, he relents turning Harm in and is allowing him to be okay before they talk. He's basically being used but doesn't really know it yet. Dork that he is.

NK – yep, didn't want to use the usual baddies, I mean, Temir. . . well, he's a tad bit more harsh.

Xblue – Ebilish it is! And Calix , yer fired! Not doing enough of a good job dood! I mean, what's she doing lose and harassing me?! Oh wait, I don't mind the harassment. Hehehe, nevermind. ;) Oh and you can't harm my characters!! That would be a breech of reader/writer contract that I just came up with. :::points to line 2,330,440::: – Readers shall not harm writer's characters in anyway! – See! ;P

Harmfan – Don't keep up with my "times" too much, they are put there because they look cool not because it's meant to follow things along. Well, cept the dates, the dates are needed because I was losing it with the flashbacks ;) As for Harm awakening fact, chalk it up to him feeling her in trouble! Writers privilege! ;)

Froggy – Ups and downs, huh? More like a roller coaster ride in hell with absolutely no restraints. LOL! ::whistles:: I've had people e-mail me to the likes of "The story is great, but THANK GOD you don't really write for JAG." Not sure how to interpret that. ;)

Take care gang! Next part on Thursday!


	11. Uncharacteristic Behaviors

This part is a bit. . .quick, I guess you could say. I am chosing not to dwell too much on Harm's recovery. I guess it's sorta like a filler chapter. Bud and Chris' interaction though, I love absolutely and really wouldn't put it past Bud too much ;)

Thanks to: XBlueShadowX, Aimee5, Charmboy4, starryeyes10, Nikki, dansingwolf, jag4ever, lei, Jackia, EternalSleep, Cristina, Tina Frank, achaon, Abigaile, Hieros Gamos, froggy0319, joanoa, JadeAlmasy, SpaceMan546, dansingwolf, carbygirl , JAGJenni, Manda, starryeyes, BiteBeccy, ng59678, LtColDevilDog, martini, mizukimarr, jtbwriter, Macaroon, Lissie, n.k, Lt.jgMegAustin, cbw, dansingwolf, Apion, alix33, jnp, MacHarm4Ever, Tania, Macaroon, harmfan, Jagnut, Claire Vincent, Navy Babeand anyone else I missed for the Feedback..

Enjoy!

J.

PART 11 – Uncharacteristic Behaviors

July 5, 2005  
1123 Zulu  
Mac's Apartment  
Georgetown

Mac managed to find some hours of sleep though restful they were not. The holidays were over; she had to be at her post in just a few hours, but she couldn't leave Harm. At the moment, she didn't trust him to be alone and had a horrible feeling in her stomach because of that. She figured the only way was to take some days off and to contact Dr. Bishop.

She had faith that he could clean up and be well again, but what would all of this do to his future? Would he still be able to function as a military officer after all that he'd been through? She could, but then again, she barely held it together when nightmares of Sadik Fahd and his mental torture finally broke her down. Her fight with PTSD made her learn a thing or two about the human condition. Hopefully, she'd be able to him Harm deal with his own demons.

At 0700, she put a call into headquarters, calling in sick. Then she called Dr. Bishop. "Mac." She was surprised when AJ had shown up with the doctor. Gratefully surprised, as she needed someone to lean on during all of this. As much as she loved Harm, as much as she wanted to be there for him, she realized his addiction was out of her league. "Do you know if it was mixed with anything else?" Dr. Bishop asked as he studied the vial. He found that it was a bottle from a hospital in Canada. Since they were dealing with terrorists it is likely that someone had stolen them.

Mac shrugged. "He didn't say. . .Oh God, what if something else was mixed into it?" Great, now she had another set of worries to add to her list.

"I didn't mean to worry you." He said with a frown. It wasn't easy to detox from any type of drug, but, he was familiar with morphine addictions. "This isn't going to be easy, I am sure you know that."

"I was an alcoholic, it took me some time to dry out. . .I know what it's like." And she did, but one thing was curing an alcohol craving for emotional pain. Another thing was stopping a medicine that was helping physical pain. "I want to do this on my own. . ."

"But it's good that you called someone. . .You don't know what he'll be like as he detoxes, some people become. . . well, violent."

Mac figured as much, though she didn't really want to give it much thought. From her own experience and the things that Uncle Matt said, she'd become a monster, even resulting to hurt herself if he didn't give her what she needed. She didn't want to see Harm that way, the thoughts scared her to death. "I know. . .And if he did, I wouldn't want to hurt him."

The men stayed in the living room and she headed back to check on Harm when she heard him groaning. "Harm? Harm, wake up." She shook him and was unprepared for the welcome she got. Harm sat up straight in bed, his hands came up to strangle her. "Haa. .rm." She rasped out, trying to keep her breathing to a minimum. "Harm. . .It's Mac. . . wake up please."

He was awake, but his eyes were wide and unseeing. It was like looking into the eyes of a ghost. "Give me what I need."

"No. . .I care for you too much to do that." She wrapped her arms around his wrist, trying to remove his hands gently, but all it did was cause him to tighten his hold. "Y-your. . .hurt-ing. . . mee." Mac started tearing up, this wasn't her beloved partner, he was a stranger. "Pl-ease. . ."

Thankfully, her pleas didn't fall on deaf ears. The odd look in Harm's eyes dissipated and was replaced by a look of horror. "Mac?" With disgust he removed his hands from her throat and backed himself away from her. "Oh God. . .Oh God, what have I done?"

He fell off of the bed with a loud thud which alerted AJ and Dr. Bishop that something was wrong.

"Mac? What. . ." AJ stared at his former chief of staff who was coughing and grasping her throat. He trailed his gaze to Harm. "Commander?"

Harm huddled in a corner, curing into fetal position. "No! No! Get away. . . Please, no more, please!"

As AJ approached, Harm tried to rush him, thankfully AJ's good reflexes prevented him from doing so. "Commander, snap to!" He grabbed Harm by the shoulders and pushed him back into a chair.

Steve, who entered in after AJ was checking Mac over. "She'll be fine, AJ. . . just a little winded." He ushered Mac out of the room and sat her down on the sofa. "Colonel, I am going to get you some water." Mac only responded with a nod, she was much too shocked to do anything else.

Back in the bedroom, Harm started coming to. "I hurt her." He said softly, glancing at his hands as if he'd never realized they were there before. "I don't want to do that again. . . What's happening to me?" He was shivering, from shock, from the disgust at having hurt Mac. He hoped Temir and all of his men rotted in hell for what they did to him. "I shouldn't have come here."

"Don't beat yourself up, Harm. . . This wasn't your fault. . .We'll help you okay?"

Harm looked up. His brow furled as he realized the person speaking was AJ Chegwidden. "Sir?"

"It's just AJ, Harm. . . I'm retired, remember?" He sat at the edge of Mac's bed, realizing that he was probably going to spend a few days at her apartment. Thank God for retirement. "We're going to help you out. . .make sure you get clean."

"Thank you."

1630 Zulu  
JAG Headquarters  
Falls Church, Virginia

Major Chris Steele wasn't sure how it happened, but, somehow, he'd wound up _having_ to go to court. He'd apparently missed the memo. Then again, he was so preoccupied last week with trying to become friends with Mac that his cover was suffering. He'd also made the mistake of not taking Lt. Commander Bud Roberts serious. As a result, he had to scramble in the morning, fax the paperwork on the case to Raymond Levine and hope that the CIA lawyers could help him out. There was no chance to settle.

In his office, Chris pulled out a small box which he had hidden in his desk. Inside was an ear piece which served as a listening device and microphone. He placed it in his ear and took a deep breath. "Testing. . ." A voice came over the ear piece reassuring him that it would be alright. "Thanks for the reassurance, but I'll believe you when court's over."

"Uh, Major?" A confused Bud Roberts stood just outside of Chris' office. "Who were you talking to?"

Chris glanced up at Bud paling slightly. He hardly realized that in his nervousness he didn't close the door. Damnit, it wasn't like him to miss details. Then again, he wasn't made for this crap. He was born and bread to be a killer not a damned legal weenie. "Pep talk, Commander."

Bud nodded. "You have tried a case before, haven't you?"

"Of course I have. . .it's just been a while and I am nervous." Which was pissing him off. Chris Steele was never nervous.

"It's just that you've settled nearly everything that came your way." Bud pointed out, not letting it drop. There was something. . . peculiar, about Chris, and Bud couldn't put a finger on it. No one liked him and while that wasn't overly tragic, it was odd that the only person Steele tried to be personable with was Mac.

Chris nodded. "Some things don't warrant a trial, Commander. . .No sense in wasting tax payers money." With a smile, he stood from his seat, grabbed his briefcase and headed out the door. "Do you know where the Colonel is?"

"I believe she called in sick. Is there something I could help you with?" He followed Chris through the bullpen and towards the elevators.

"Nope, just wondering where my partner is." Chris said with a smile that seemed more suggestive than anything else.

As much as people pegged Bud for being a fool, he was anything but. Through the months of Harm's disappearance, he'd made sure Mac was alright even though, inside he was falling apart as well. Harm was more than a friend, he was practically like a big brother and his loss was taken hard by all. "Major, I suggest you wipe that smirk off. I know what you are doing and it isn't going to work."

Chris snorted and punched the 'up' button. "Oh, and what is that?"

"Don't play me for a fool. You're trying to put the moves on Colonel MacKenzie!" Bud's eyes were alive with a showing of dislike that even made Chris, Mr. Hardass Marine, unnerved.

As both men stepped into the elevator, Chris couldn't help but chuckle. "Well, she is a hottie."

"And a _senior officer_, which I suggest you treat with nothing but RESPECT." As the doors closed, Bud shoved Chris up against one of the walls. "The Colonel is a friend, a good friend. . .If you so much as look at her the wrong way, I'll personally kick your ass."

Chris chuckled. "You're a gimp, Roberts. I am a Marine who can have you permanently living through life in a wheelchair with just one strategically placed punch."

"I might be a gimp, but I'll be damned if I am going to allow slime like you to threaten me." Bud slammed the Major into the wall once then let him go as the elevator doors opened. Chris was surprised at Bud's uncharacteristic behavior and decided, it was best to leave him alone. He would deal with Mac on his own terms.

1710 Zulu  
Mac's Apartment  
Georgetown

Mac was in the living room sitting next to AJ and sipping the herbal tea that he'd made for her. Dr. Bishop had left some time earlier, but promised that the medication he'd given Harm to help him through detox, would probably have him down for at least eight hours. "Steve said that, uh, the anti-opiate should cleanse him within 72 hours. . . Of course, he needs to keep taking it."

"I know." Mac said before taking another long sip of the tea. "You don't have to stay here. . .I can take it from here." But, as usual, that was a lie told because she was a Marine, capable of controlling anything.

"Bullshit, Mac. If that were true, you wouldn't have called me in the first place. . . Besides, Harm would probably kill me if he knew I'd left you alone." AJ said with a snort, though it possibly would be true. They weren't his subordinates anymore and knowing Harm's emotional side, he wouldn't be surprised if he were upset at someone not taking care of Mac. "Why don't you get some rest?"

Mac shook her head, she wouldn't be able to rest knowing what was going on under her roof. The few times she'd swung by the room to check on him, she could tell the sleep was restless. God, how she wanted to take that pain away, but she knew it was impossible. It would heal within time, but it was all that time between then that worried her.

"I'll go and stay with Harm, you can spread out here on the sofa." Knowing Mac was going to object, he stood up, grabbed the afghan and placed it over her. "I can still make than an order." He added with a smirk.

Mac chuckled slightly and decided to concede. She made herself comfortable on the sofa and pulled the afghan up to her chest. Hopefully, she'd be able to get a little rest before she came crashing down. It was a miracle she'd survived as is, the last few days had been hell. Thankfully, she finally got the rest that she needed.

In the morning, AJ had woken her up early to make sure she headed to work. Mac protested, of course, she didn't want to leave Harm. But, she knew AJ would help watch over him. AJ did have a very valid point: she couldn't just sit around at home, eventually people would get suspicious. As she headed into JAG ops, she found the General waiting on the elevator. "Colonel, how are you feeling this morning?"

"Better, thanks." She walked into the elevator and leaned heavily against the back wall, something that Creswell noted, but didn't comment on. "Anything I missed, sir?"

Taking a deep breath, he turned to her with a grimace. "What do you think about Major Steele's lawyering skills? And be honest with me."

Mac fished around for an appropriate word to censor the slew of curse words she wanted to use as adjectives to describe the Major. "Well, sir, I'd categorize the Major's lawyering abilities as mediocre."

Creswell gave her a pointed look of disbelief then stepped out of the elevator as it reached their floor. "You're holding back, Colonel. . . I can tell."

"Thank you." She said as he held open the glass doors for her. He motioned for her to follow him through to his office. When they arrived she was told to sit down. "Without holding back, sir, I can tell you the Major has no concept of law. He operates like a made man on a hit." Mac sat there patiently biting her tongue. All she wanted to do was lash out at Creswell, considering that she'd brought up Steele's unorthodox methods before to no avail. Why was he listening now?

The General tried not to chuckle at her description of Steele's techniques. He shook his head in confusion then slid into his chair. "Yesterday was a massacre in court. It looked like someone had coached _him_ on what to say. Admiral Morris is furious at his actions."

"Let me guess, did he attack a witness?" Mac wouldn't be surprised; Chris did seem like the type to have a short fuse.

Creswell seemed very displeased. "He basically turned badgering into harassment."

"Would you like me to talk to him, sir? See if maybe there is something . . .off?" She offered.

"Please. . . Dismissed." Before Mac had a chance to head out, he stopped her. "Colonel, that's not an order. It's. . . more of a favor."

Mac nodded. "Understood, sir."

1520 Zulu  
CIA Headquarters  
Langley, Virginia

Major Chris Steele was supposed to be on his way to Norfolk to interview a client. Instead he was sitting in Raymond Levine's office. "The Colonel is a force to be reckoned with. I walk into the office this morning and she wailed on me over not acting properly in court." To say that he was upset, was calling it lightly. He was an inch away from grabbing Mac and doing some damage. The fact that he was in JAG ops was the only thing stopping him from doing so.

Raymond was finding the whole thing to be comical. He'd never known Chris to fail at anything, especially when it came to women. "She not succumbing to your charms?"

"It's not funny!" He spat out angrily as he stood up to pace. "Look, whatever the hell we're supposed to be doing, won't work. MacKenzie doesn't have Rabb at her place."

That turned the whole conversation serious. "How can you tell?"

"She went to work today! To be honest, if he was in as bad a shape as your people said he was, she wouldn't be leaving him alone." Chris went back to his chair, sitting on the edge. "From what I was able to dig out of people at JAG ops, they were close. Not intimate, but very damned close. . . I don't believe she'd leave him alone."

"And what did you turn up in Webb's apartment?"

Chris grinned. "He's one sick puppy. The man is obsessed with Sarah MacKenzie. . . I found a diary on his computer. Every entry had something to do with her. . . from what I can tell, he's been doing his job, I don't think you'll have a problem with him."

Raymond leaned back into his chair and rubbed his chin in thought. "Kershaw has been snooping around." He glanced at Chris and in no uncertain terms made a request. "See what he knows and if it's too much. . .make it look like an accident."

"Finally, some action." Chris leaned into his chair and chuckled malevolently.

--

Jagnut – I've received a few of those messages. My view, is on crack or overloaded.

NavyBabe – Glad you found the story! Hopefully I'm doing well with this one. As for Steele, join the I Hate Chris Steele club. ;) I might make shirts! LOL!

NK – I'll make up for the dark parts in the next story, there's a lot more Harm and Mac interaction. Yes cliffhangers are my fav! I might make shirts! "I love Cliffhangers"

Nikki – Not at all, I figured by 8, 10 chappies tops everything would be figured out and copasetic. Originally Chris wasn't bad, just the jagoff that the General put in the office because they were down one lawyer. As the story started to unfold I decided I needed a better reason for people to hate him. ;) Temir I see well dressed and well mannered with a penchant to cause pain because he can. He's like Sadik on crack.

Carby – Glad to help with the info! Even the day I posted it I was still adding things to it to make it flow. 

Claire – Glad I haven't lost you. I was worried about too many flashbacks, but it's the only good way, methinks, to tell the story without someone (Harm) narrating it.

LtJgMeg – You kill Webb? SURE! And I'll hand over Temir and Steele for good measure. :)

Jtbwriter – Yep, very intense, a bit of a headache to write all of the torture scenes. Harm's going to have a bit of trouble before he gets cleared. ;)

Harmfan – It's nice to respond back, see what wavelength everyone is on. 

Temir will not suffer lots of pain at the end of THIS story, but story 2 – very possible! We have a few weasels to umm hurt. ;)

Tina Frank – Mac's gonna whip someone alright, but he's definitely going to have it coming. Let's say. . . Steele oversteps his boundaries. ;)

Froggy – Hey, Harm in Mac's tub all day. . .How about Harm in MY tub all day? I'll consider it. ;)

Xblue – There's an amendment to the contract – ebil writer/reader contracts can not be tampered with in anyway. Shall the reader attempt to destroy the document, he/she shall be forced to read Harm/Renee and Mac/Mic stories forever. ::cringes:: Wow, talk about penalties! ;)

Charmboy – Sorry! It'll be soonish, maybe not soonish enough, but soonish.

Remember boys, girls, squirrels and germs, THIS story will end with a bang! Not THAT king of Bang, get your heads out of the gutter! Muahahaaaaa!!


	12. Chances

Hey gang!! There is only going to be two posts this week. I have training to do which tends to get in the way of things. If I get a chance I'll post more. But, here's a bit of a tease and some shipperish moments to carry you guys through the week. ;)

Enjoy!

J.

AN: This one has 15 parts and the sequel, thus far, looks to have 10, but that can change as I add more and review.

Thanks to: XBlueShadowX, Aimee5, Charmboy4, starryeyes10, Nikki, dansingwolf, jag4ever, lei, Jackia, EternalSleep, Cristina, Tina Frank, achaon, Abigaile, Hieros Gamos, froggy0319, joanoa, JadeAlmasy, SpaceMan546, dansingwolf, carbygirl , JAGJenni, Manda, starryeyes, BiteBeccy, ng59678, LtColDevilDog, martini, mizukimarr, jtbwriter, Macaroon, Lissie, n.k, Lt.jgMegAustin, cbw, dansingwolf, Apion, alix33, jnp, MacHarm4Ever, Tania, Macaroon, harmfan, Jagnut, Claire Vincent, Navy Babeand anyone else I missed for the Feedback..

Part 12 – Chances

July 13, 2005  
2301 Zulu  
Mac's Apartment

Georgetown

"I'm home." Mac called softly as she headed into her apartment. The past week had been one wild ride. Things with Harm had been up and down. Occasionally, when he was awake he would beg her to help him, to give him the morphine that his body craved so much. Though it killed her to see him that way, she was vehement on giving in. Dr. Bishop had made daily visits to check up on Harm, giving him an anti-opiate medication that would help cleanse his body. Should Harm find a away to get his hands on another batch of morphine, the anti-opiate would prevent his body from getting the high he required. AJ, still feeling guilty for letting his people down, had spent a lot of time helping Mac out. He was unsure of what Harm was capable of and didn't want some similar attack to occur. He'd left early, but given Mac a call to advise that Harm was sleeping and would probably not wake until the late evening.

The last few days had been very painless, the medication seemed to be helping Harm and his outbursts had come down. Most of the day was spent sleeping. Mac barely had a chance to slip off her jacket when there was a knock on the door. She froze, suddenly worried at who it could be. Despite the fact that things had been relatively calm, Webb kept in contact with her over Harm's progression, each time mentioning how prudent it was that he talk to Harm. As much as the spook swore that he wouldn't do anything without getting to the bottom of things, Mac wasn't so sure.

Checking the peephole, Mac leaned against the door and cursed. "Shit. . . shit!" Quickly, she headed towards the bedroom and made sure Harm was still sleeping. "Please stay quiet." She said gently as she headed towards the front door.

"Colonel, ma'am." Before her stood Major Chris Steele. "The General asked me to drop this off, apparently you left it at the office." He handed her a file on a case they were jointly working on.

Mac took the file and smiled slightly. "Thank you, Major." As she went to close the door, Chris stopped her.

"Maybe we could work a bit more on the case? I mean I am already here. . . And I brought provisions." He waved a bag of Chinese food in front of her and smiled charmingly.

Apparently, at least to Mac, he was trying to put their issues behind them. Though it was admirable, she could only imagine what Chris would do if, somehow, he found Harm in her apartment. "I ah. . . actually, can I have a rain check? I have a really bad headache. All I want to do is go to sleep."

Chris had his own flyboyish type of smile which Mac was only slightly immune to. He was good looking and charming at times. No, she wasn't falling for him, but maybe warming up to another friend. "I see. . . Well, I'll leave the food. See you tomorrow at work."

Mac took the bag from him and smiled greatfully. "See you tomorrow."

When she closed the door, Chris turned and headed towards the stairs. "Damnit." He needed to get into that apartment, to make sure Rabb was never there. Things with him and Mac had been going slightly better, he was practically bending over backwards in order to get in hers and the General's good graces. As a result, he'd had another run in with Bud who seemed to be an immovable force when it came to Mac. Chris accused Bud of being in love with her, something which the Commander scoffed at. It didn't matter anyway, if needed, Chris would take care of Bud as well. He was hoping, for the sake of preventing people from snooping around, that it wouldn't come to that.

As he stepped into his Escalade, he flipped on a listening device, a clear, sticker like, undetectable object, that he had hidden on one of the cartons of food. It was capable of picking up any sound in that apartment. There was a rustling of the bag containing the food, a sound of plates and silverware being taken out of drawers and cabinets. He was taking a chance, but sometimes big things happened when you did.

Mac, still in uniform, took a bite out of the chicken lo mien, then let out a deep sigh. She would have to thank Chris for brining her some food. Placing the plate on the countertop she reached into the refrigerator to pull out a diet coke and took a long gulp. Frowning, thoughts of her and Harm sharing a meal together came to mind. The last time they'd done that was too long ago. "Please Harm, come back to me. . .I need you." Hugging herself, she leaned against the counter not even bothering to stop the tears that came. "I need to tell you that I'm in love with you."

Chris nearly dropped the water bottle that he was nursing in his car. "In love with him?" With a groan he pulled up the volume on the listening device and could hear the distinct sounds of someone crying. "Holy shit." It suddenly dawned on him just how _close_ Harm and Mac had been. Then, there was a sound, one so loud it hurt his ears. "Ah!! What the hell?"

All of the food went into the garbage as Mac lost her appetite. Removing the bag, she headed out of her apartment and down the hall to the dumpster shute and heaved the bag into the hole. Across the street, Chris adjusted the knobs on all of his gadgets but finally realized that he could hear nothing else. Glancing up to Mac's apartment he saw her slim figure closing the blinds. "Damnit. . . Can't I get a break?" He slammed his fists into the steering wheel then angrily put the car in drive and headed off.

Mac locked the front door before heading into the bedroom. Harm was sprawled out on the bed, his body twitching from time to time. It was another dream, God how she wished they would go away. She grabbed fresh clothing from her dresser then headed into the bathroom. The warm water soothed her aching body and the therapeutic smell of the lavender bath gel helped relax her. Mac had closed her eyes when rinsing her hair and when she opened them, Harm was standing in front of her.

He was only wearing a smile, his body was covered with water droplets. It was one of the sexiest sights she'd ever seen. "Harm?" Reflexively, she covered herself up, well, as much as one can when they are in their birthday suit.

Harm's eyes, those sea-green eyes that she longed to drown in, were gazing hard into her. "I was feeling better, thought you could use some help." He said with a husky voice.

Mac's lips crushed onto his own, giving into the want she'd had for so many years. But, as the hot water began ruining out, she found herself alone. He'd never been with her, it was just a daydream. Her fingers touched her lips and the memories of that kiss from her engagement party danced behind her closed eyelids. It was wrong then, but why did it feel so right? Never had she been kissed with such passion. She shook her head to rid herself of the image. "Get a grip, Marine."

After dressing, she headed out of the bathroom, towel drying her hair. "Hey." His voice startled her. Just in case, she opened and closed her eyes, making sure this wasn't another fantasy.

"Hey, how you feeling?" Cautiously, she rounded the bed, walking over to his side. "Are you hungry?"

Harm stretched out, wincing as his body protested the movements. "No, just tired."

"I'll let you sleep then."

As Mac motioned to leave the room, Harm sat up straighter in the bed. "No. . . please stay. . ." He pleaded. Harm was relieved when she came and sat on the edge of the bed, turning so that she could look at him. Mac ran her hand over his forehead, he wasn't feverish. There were so many things he needed to tell her, but he wasn't too sure he could find the words. He glanced around the room noting, that the nighttime had snuck up on him. It was then that he realized, he wasn't even sure what day it was. "What. . . what day is it?"

"July 13th." Mac was concerned for him. Harm was never the type to be so out of it, even when he was injured. "Harm, what is it?" She asked when she noted the sad look in his eyes.

So many things had been taken away from him; his pride, his dignity, but what Harm missed the most was time. He'd sadly mused about their timing once or twice, never really grasping the gist of it all. Well, he understood it now when he was forcefully taken away. "I missed your birthday."

The look on his face was amusing. Harm looked like a little boy who had hurt his best friend. She chuckled slightly, then placed a hand on his forearm to assure him that things aren't as bad as his mind was letting him believe. "You arrived the day of my birthday, Harm. . .It's the best present I've ever received."

Harm wouldn't know because his mind was picking and choosing which details from his past he was to remember. Unfortunately, most of the details had to do with his capture. He vaguely remembered talking to her at all. His eyes traveled down to her hand on his forearm. Such acts were becoming a staple of their relationship. It was all about taking those itty bitty breadcrumbs so that he could survive just being friends with her. He craved more physical contact and not necessarily of the sexual kind but the types between good friends. For the first time in so long, the silence in the room didn't threaten to overwhelm them. He'd never felt so safe before. "You have no idea how priceless it is to actually know what day it is, Mac." He finally said, raising his head so the could look into her eyes.

"You're still having nightmares? Of course you are, stupid question." She rolled her eyes and shook her head. Out of the many things she could have said and she had to bring up nightmares.

He nodded. "I. . . I wished I had your timing. . .Just to know what time it was would have made all the difference in the world." She tried to interrupt him, hoping to save both herself and him from that part of his life. "I missed you, you know? More than I ever thought I could miss someone. . .The times I allowed myself to think about you. . .I kept thinking of things we've missed out on."

"Harm. . .we'll talk about this another time."

"Why'd you go to Webb? I saved you. . .I went down there for you. . .why?"

The suddenness of the question momentarily shut Mac down. After Paraguay, when Harm was off playing spook and even when she and Webb were 'official' that question still plagued her. In movies, in books, even in legends, it was unorthodox for the damsel to chose anyone but the man who saved her. There were exceptions, of course, and apparently she and Harm were added to that exception. "I don't know. . .I wanted you to walk on in there with that stupid hero complex of yours and. . . Damnit you didn't even hug me or say anything. . . You were upset when I left, I thought it was because you. . cared for me, more than just a friend. . .But we were both so. . .God I can't even put it into words."

Harm nodded. Replaying that memory back in his head, she was right, they treated each other like acquaintances. "I was worried we'd get killed, which is why I wasn't very friendly with you. . .and I am sorry."

"Webb and I, took some time to develop. . .A lot of time, actually." She said with a sigh as she worked her way to admitting something even she was keeping from herself. "It was only dinners and a few moments here and there until Sadik happened. . . after that, I needed to FEEL something. . . And he was there, only. . . he wasn't there. . ." If there could be one word to classify her whole relationship with Clayton Webb, it would be: pointless. It wasn't an experience that she'd learned from, she didn't take anything. In the process, she'd managed to lose herself and her best friend. It's still a miracle to her how they'd been able to bury the hatchet, so to speak, and be back on friendly terms. "The reason why I stayed so long was because I thought I didn't have anywhere to go. . .You were with Mattie, being the father she needed and I. . .I-I thought you were losing interest in me."

Harm knew he was right about that assessment, he could see it in her eyes whenever he spoke about Mattie. There seemed to be a resentment or maybe even a jealousy which came out when she was dealing with PTSD. "I could never lose interest in you. . .I tried. Even thought I'd managed to erase you from my mind until that day you came to me because of the Imes debacle."

"I missed you. . . a lot. I'm sorry I was too proud to admit any of that."

"You're not the only one sorry, Mac. . ." They spent a few long minutes just staring at each other, both musing how that had been happening a lot lately. The sound of Harm's stomach growling broke the silence.

Mac laughed. "On the way home I stopped to buy some ingredients to make a chicken soup. It's one of the things I can actually thank mom for. She used to make a mean chicken soup."

Harm's eyebrows shot up to his hairline. "You can cook?"

Mac gave him a poignant glare. "You know I can cook, Harm. And even my worst concoctions taste better than you meatless meatloaf." He chuckled at that. Throughout the years she still hadn't let him off the hook over the meatless meatloaf.

"Hey don't forget that solved our case." He chuckled as well, wincing as his head pounded from the exertion. "When you bring the soup, can you bring an aspirin or two?"

"Not a problem." With a smile, she pulled the covers tightly around him then leaned forward and kissed his forehead. "Rest, Commander. That's an order."

"Aye, aye, Ma'am." He joked back. Glancing to the side he saw a picture of him and Mac taken when they were in Afghanistan. The whole thing was one of the worst experiences of their lives, but it was enjoyable. It was fun to be out there with her, sharing body heat, protecting each other. Body heat – God how he wanted _that_ night to last. It was the second time he'd held her close in hopes of keeping warm. The other, was during their tête-à-tête with deranged hillbillies. Both times, he reveled in the feel of her in his arms, her breathing even with his, the warmth of her breath on his cheek. He'd move Heaven and Earth in order to be there again but under different circumstances. He'd give his all for the chance to make her his.

--

Nikki – I could see Bud getting all in someone's face about those he cares about. Temir is not as sexish as Sadik, just well groomed. LOL!

Navy Babe – Ummm depends on what your idea of a good bang is. Damn that sounds suuuper sick. It'll be a cliffhanger so it'll be a bad bang for most. ;)

Joanoa – All the spooks die? But not all are bad. . . well. . . Ummm nevermind. ;)

Tina Frank – Mac is going to injure a certain place that men have problems being uh. . .injured at. He is going to ask for it, big time.

Froggy – Sharing Harm are we now? I have his clone, which is much nicer cos he doesn't have the foot-in-the-mouth problem that Harm does. ;) Of course you want the gutter ending, those are just. .. NICE! ;)

NK – Total is 15 chapters for this baby and we're looking at 10 chapters for story two, which can change. I was outlining it tonight and it looks to be that long so far. :)

Xblue – I'll let you off on good behavior… so don't worry no more Mac and Brumby stories. Or worse – Harm and Renee ::shiver:::

Carby – Mac will end up, between both stories, probably giving steele a piece of her mind twice. Marine vs. Marine and my bets are on the woman who has love on her side not Mr. Baddass Marine. How's that?

Jackia – Temir and pain? I like that idea. . .I have a few ideas how that MAY or MAY NOT happen. ;)

Charmboy – Yay!! Kudos for you signing in!! :D Well, I know you and SOME OTHER PEOPLE :::Coughs and points::: have their heads in the gutter. . . course I do too. ;)

Jtbwriter – Yep, if I were Mac I'd have gone nuts by now. I won't torture you too much with harm detoxing, I think there is enough hell in the above chapters for him. :)


	13. Don't Break Promises

Thanks for the patience, understanding and the death threats! ;) All are welcomed. Two more parts to go after this one! Here's a reason to hate Webb the Weasel a bit more. Hehehe!

Enjoy!

J.

Thanks to: XBlueShadowX, Aimee5, Charmboy4, starryeyes10, Nikki, dansingwolf, jag4ever, lei, Jackia, EternalSleep, Cristina, Tina Frank, achaon, Abigaile, Hieros Gamos, froggy0319, joanoa, JadeAlmasy, SpaceMan546, dansingwolf, carbygirl , JAGJenni, Manda, starryeyes, BiteBeccy, ng59678, LtColDevilDog, martini, mizukimarr, jtbwriter, Macaroon, Lissie, n.k, Lt.jgMegAustin, cbw, dansingwolf, Apion, alix33, jnp, MacHarm4Ever, Tania, Macaroon, harmfan, Jagnut, Claire Vincent, Navy Babeand anyone else I missed for the Feedback..

Part 13 – Don't Break Promises

They were walking down a path within the White House's rose garden, hand in hand, out of uniform. She was wearing a dressy sundress and he was in slacks and a dress shirt. They'd stopped by a bench and sat down, just staring at each other and the wonders of the beautiful Washington spring. "You're healed now, Harm. . . It's time to wake up." Mac told him and when he tried to speak, he found himself unable to. She laughed at him and shook her head. "No silly, you have to wake up."

July 14, 2005  
2230 Zulu  
Mac's Apartment  
Georgetown

It took him a few minutes more to fully come out of the dream and when he did, Harm felt alive again. Slowly, he sat up in bed then stretched to get his body working again. For the first time in months he wasn't dazed, nor tired, nor in the haze that plagued him due to the drug use. He felt whole again, like the man he used to be. A whole man in need of a shower.

"Oooh God." He moaned softly as he stepped into the hot steam of the shower. It felt good to be able to do this on his own again, to wash away the grime that he felt on his skin. Taking some of Mac's lavender soap, he lathered himself up and washed twice, reveling in feeling clean. Harm leaned against the shower, letting the spray hit his face and found himself not to be afraid of it. "Thank God." He said softly, sailors weren't supposed to be afraid of water.

Stepping out and wrapping a towel around his waist, he proceeded on locating a razor and shaving off the slight facial hair that had grown in the last few days. He found the box of clothing that Mac had left in her room and pulled out a pair of blue jeans and a black tank top along with a fresh set of boxers. When he was done dressing, he headed out of the bedroom in search of Mac.

The sound of pots and pans banging gave away her location. With a smile he headed towards the kitchen and leaned against the doorframe as he watched her work on what seemed to be lasagna.

Intently, she studied the instructions in back of the 'ready bake' lasagna strips and began lining them on the pan. That's when she felt him watching her. As she turned around, she hoped to God that today wouldn't be another battle with him, she wasn't sure she could handle it on the little sleep that she had. "Hey." Mac said softly, hoping not to scare him in any way. "How long have you been up?"

With a shrug he stepped further into the kitchen, stopping to lean against one of the counters. "A little while. . . I needed a shower, decided to see where you were."

"I was a little distracted." She said sheepishly and stepped past him to grab the cheese out of the fridge.

"Apparently."

"Well, I am working on a lasagna. . .I didn't know if you could take hard food so there's still some soup."

"Cooking again, huh?" He said with a nod in the general direction she was occupying.

Mac turned to him and smiled slightly. "I ah, was a bit out of sorts so I decided to cook. . .It's no big deal."

When Mac went to reach into the fridge again, Harm stopped her, turning her body so that he could look into her yes. "Thanks Mac, for everything."

"Thank you."

He cocked his head to the side. After all of the hell that he'd put her through, she was going to thank him? "What are you thanking me for?"

"For helping me stay sober." She said sincerely, drowning in the blue of his eyes. Right at this moment, as he stood there, fresh from his shower and in those jeans and a tank top, Mac wanted so much to kiss him, to do something to show him how much she really wanted him.

Harm did catch that look of desire in her eyes but pushed it away for the same reason he always did: fear. "That's. . . that's what best friends do, Mac."

"Is that all we are? Best friends?" There was a slight twinge of disappointment. Mac felt a thousand miles away, back on that ferry in Sydney Harbor when she'd laid her heart on the line and he'd crushed it. What would he do now?

Harm couldn't tell you how it happened, but, somehow, they were holding each other. "Yes." It was the wrong answer, he knew it the moment her walls went back up again. When she lowered her head in disappointment, he tucked a finger under her chin and eased her head up. "But that's not all I want to be. . ." They held each others gaze, both barely breathing in anticipation of what would come. Harm's gaze traveled to her lips, so full and inviting. He lowered his head then stopped for a moment to notice that Mac's lips were parted, her head was slightly thrown back and her eyes were closed. She wanted him to kiss her and he wanted the same.

His tongue darted out of his mouth to moisten his lips. But, neither of them moved fast enough and an interruption came in the form of someone knocking on the door. "Damnit!" She hissed, opening her eyes to find Harm looking slightly upset. "Stay here."

Eyes closed and fists balled at his sides, Harm leaned towards the fridge and banged his head on it a few times. Why did something always find a way to screw up their moment? And now, they were finally so close. "Where is he?" A familiar voice said and a moment later, Clayton Webb appeared with Mac on his tails. "Good, you're up. I need to know what happened."

Harm let out a deep and annoyed sigh. "Well, hello to you too Clay." He glanced over at Mac who mouthed the words 'I'm sorry.' Straightening he headed past Webb and towards the living room. "Take a load off."

Mac tugged Harm to the side. "Are you okay?"

He nodded and gave her a lopsided smile. "I need to get this over with." Studying Webb, he noted the agent to be jumpier than usual. "What's going on Clay?"

"First, tell me what you know. . . we'll go on from there." Harm gave Webb the basic details of what happened with the planes and how Andy Watson had died by his hand. He briefly touched on the torture techniques and the morphine addiction. As they conversed, Webb assured that the three men with him and Andy had been sent by the CIA and been missing for several months. "All of this Aurora business has created one hell of a maelstrom."

"What's going on?" Harm glanced towards Mac, noting that she was sitting away from the two of them being suspiciously quite.

That was a good question, one that Webb didn't quite have answers to. "I don't know. . . but something really big is in the works."

"And by that you mean?"

So many things had happened since he'd last been at Mac's apartment. Now, if the things he pieced together were true, it was someone from his side, not Harm, guilty of treason. "Kershaw was seriously injured in a hit and run near his home. . .I don't think it was an accident." Taking out a folder from his briefcase, he presented it to Harm and motioned for him to check it. "These were in his possession."

Harm glanced through the files, reading what appeared to be, "Codes?"

Clay nodded. "Non of it made sense until now. . . I think someone in the agency is working for the other side and they are trying to blame it all on you."

"Who?"

"I'm not sure. . .I think the Assistant Director, Ray Levine might have a clue, but I've known him for ages. . . he trained me. . . I don't see him as the type to sell out."

Harm turned another page to find, what appeared to be a satellite image of the planes. "These are in the Appalachians. . . But, that can't be."

Webb creased his forehead in confusion. "Wasn't that where you were held?"

"No! It was in Canada, the Maritimes to be correct."

"That can't be." He insisted, after all, the images showed the location of both planes and satellite imagery was rarely wrong.

"Yes it can. . . I know I was out of it but I do remember crossing the goddamn border, took me days to figure out how to do it without the boarder patrols finding me."

"Why hide from boarder patrols?" Webb asked suspiciously.

Harm knew why that question was raised, Webb still didn't trust him. "Temir, the man that held me, showed me files that I was being hunted for treason. I wasn't going to give myself into the patrols without trying to clear my name."

Both men stared at each other for a moment, each thinking of a plausible explanation. It would be pretty impossible to bring two planes of that nature, or any big machine over the boarder without tipping people off. "Maybe they were sent over, figuring that since you escaped you knew where they were and they didn't want you finding them again."

Harm shook his head. "If that were they case, they would just travel farther up North in Canada, not risk heading to the States. Besides, I removed the master control panel, those things won't be able to move unless they were hoisted up and placed on something mobile."

"By train." He offered only to be met by Harm's dry chuckle.

"What are you? A moron? It's not _that_ easy." Quickly he grabbed a sheet of paper and worked on making a paper plane. He used it in presenting Webb with his professional opinion, pointing out the engines and wings and how delicate the plane really was. "So, you see, they aren't just going to just hoist it away not without damaging some integral parts of it's structure."

But, Webb was stubborn on his point. "Look, the satellite images _show_ the damned planes are _here_, in the States. . . After I found this on Kershaw, we checked the Canadian images, _nothing_ showed up." Clay studied Harm for a moment, the man seemed to be lost in confused thought. "Are you sure you were in Canada? You could have been here all the time? I mean they pumped you full of stuff, Harm."

"Okay, fine, I am not sure, bits and pieces are hazy." Harm held his hands up in surrender, though paperwork could be tampered, it was a little difficult to mess around with satellite images. Besides, it's the CIA we're talking about, they held the market in figuring out where things were. "I am assuming you guys are gonna go on in and get the planes?"

"It's not that simple." Webb said without reservation and added, "I need you to come with me."

That comment had Mac, who'd been silent up to now, ready to kill the agent. "He isn't going anywhere, Webb. . . What you are going to do is clear his name and get him off of your damned payroll once and for all."

"Ah, she speaks, I was wondering when you'd jump in." Was his snarky reply, he completely ignored the fact that Mac was seething and turned his attention to Harm. "You owe me Rabb."

"How do you figure that?" Harm yelled in exasperation. "By my count, you owe me. . . _TWICE_. If I hadn't have called your mother and told her we were heading to Manderlee all three of us would have been dead." Standing, he walked over to Webb, jabbing his chest to make his point. "If I didn't weasel my way into Paraguay, you and Mac would have been dead. . . Or did you forget the condition you were in when we found you?"

Clay shoved Harm's hand away from him. "Screw you, Rabb."

"No, Webb. . . I am tired of being _screwed_ by YOU and the Agency. . ." Turning away, Harm walked into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator to pull out a bottle of water. "Go Alone."

"You can't mean that." Clay yelled from the dining room, stepping backwards at Harm made his way back out.

His 6 foot 4 frame stalked into the room, glaring the agent down with his most menacing glare. "I am tired of the CIA using people like Mac and I because you can."

"People like Mac and you? Who do you think you are Superman?"

"You know what I mean. . .Indispensable for your needs, well trained. People who give a damn about this country and would do anything to protect it."

"Not my fault you two are good." Webb scoffed, turning slightly to glare at Mac who seemed to be unsure as to how all of this transpired.

"Good, huh? You telling me there was a _shortage_ of women when you went to Paraguay and nearly got _my _best friend killed?"

Clay pointed at Mac and walked towards her direction, keeping a distance away from Harm. "_She_ was the most skilled for it."

"Oh yea?" But, Harm knew differently. Or, let's just say, he knew a different side to the story. One that he was 100 percent sure Clay didn't divulge to Mac. "How about telling her the truth Clay. . ." He waved off Clay's attempt of breaking his rhythm and honed in on the agent. "Tell her how you _waited_ until the last moment. . . Tell her how the CIA made sure I as in the brig for longer than I was supposed to in hopes I would be out of the way as you made off with Mac."

That last part was the final nail in the coffin. Mac glanced between Harm and Clay, boring her eyes into her ex. "Is that true?"

Turning to Mac, Clay moved forward, hoping to pacify a situation that he had finally lost all control of. "Sarah. . ."

"Is that true?!" Mac yelled at him feeling even more hurt and betrayed that she had after he was supposedly lost at sea. She knew Harm wouldn't lie to her, especially about something so important. At the moment, she felt like the worlds biggest fool for ever trusting anything the spook had to say. "Answer me Clay or, so help me, I won't be responsible for my actions."

As much as he had some control over Mac in the past, it was gone now. Completely obliterated and shattered. For the first time in a long time, he was afraid of a woman. But, Webb didn't a chance to put a word in. Harm had walked between him and Mac, standing close to her as he kept filling her in with things that shouldn't have been. "He knew that with me in the brig, even if I got out, Chegwidden wouldn't let me go with you. . . He also waited until the last minute to go, with no back up, just you." Looking at Mac, his eyes were sad, almost as if asking forgiveness over shattering her images of her former lover. She nodded at him, realizing just how much of a creep the man really was.

Clay cringed at the silent interaction. It was just one, of many that had disturbed him through the time he'd known Harm and Mac. How was it that they could hold a complete conversation just out of one look? Breaking their gaze, he finally managed to have the courage to speak up. "Look, I know you have grievances."

"Grievances?" Mac turned to Webb, giving off a mirthless laugh. "No, Clay, I don't have _grievances_. I am pissed off!. . . And I am not going through hoops for you anymore. And neither is Harm."

Webb just smiled knowing that wasn't entirely true. "Not even to clear Harm's name?"

"I didn't do anything wrong!" Harm yelled.

Okay, so maybe that ruse didn't work. So, Clayton Webb turned to something he wasn't proud of doing: begging. "Harm. . . I need your help, there is no telling what they'd do with the planes."

"Not my problem."

That was unnerving. What happened to the Harmon Rabb who would risk life and limb to protect the USA? Clay shook his head in disgust. This Harmon Rabb wasn't the same. "What happened to you up there?"

"What happened? Do you want to hear everything _again_ in even more _graphic_ detail?" Harm grabbed the spook by the lapels. "Have you ever had to_ shoot_ your partner because he begged you to?. . .You are a stupid, petty little man. . . We were friends once, Webb. . . but after what you put Mac and I through. . . that friendship is over."

"A man does what he must-in spite of personal consequences, in spite of obstacles and dangers and pressures. . ."

Harm stifled a laugh. "Quoting JFK now?" He wanted to bash Webb into a million pieces and never hear from him again. But, there was a point in going back and forth; Harm was still a US Naval Officer, one duty bound to protect the USA at any costs. "_If _the planes are there, we can't even fly them out. I yanked their master control panel and destroyed them."

"You're really contemplating this aren't you?" Mac asked noting the expression on Harm's face changing from anger to concern.

"We don't need to get them out of there, just make sure they are there and then call in for backup. . . We'll be in and out, I promise." He knew he was winning Harm over on the idea. "Look, I don't know who in the agency I can trust. . . and this isn't just about you, Rabb. . .It's about finding out why the training pilots turned and who's been leaking intel. . .We gave an oath to protect this country and there is no telling what they'll do if they manage to figure out how to use those planes."

Harm looked at Mac and the at Clay. His speech didn't make him give in, only the thoughts of protecting those he took an oath to protect. "Fine, I'll go."

Mac tugged on his arm, getting him to pay attention to her. "Are you insane?"

"Apparently."

She saw the determination in his eyes that she wanted to quash. Damn him and his superhero complex. "I don't want you to go, Harm." Mac pleaded.

Harm lowered his head, trying not to be consumed by her gaze. He didn't want to leave, not now or ever, but this was something that he was involved in. He had to see it to the end. "I know. . . but I have to."

They glanced at each other again, each remembering the near kiss. There was a thread of desire between the two of them. One that, both of them realized, might never be quenched. "I am not going to stop you. . .Even though I want to. . .Just promise to be safe."

Before he realized it, her arms came around him, holding him as tight as she possibly could. "I'm coming back you know? I promise."

"And you don't break promises." Mac affirmed as she released him from her embrace and stepped away, preparing herself to miss him all over again.

--

Jackia – Thank you! Temir will get his eventually, we hope. ;) And Harm is getting there, but he won't be completely 100 percent even if he thinks he is.

Xblue – Yes, a sequel and a BAD bangish cliffhanger. ;) Yep, the smiley's are like addictive. For me it's the ;) – winks. We used to joke that we had a nervous twitch which is why I put ;) so much. LOL! ;)

NavyBabe – Now why do you go around calling me Evil? Huh? Huh? :::looks at the story::: oh yea! ;) I am glad Mac threw it away which was uncharacteristic of her, she probably would have eaten it first. LOL.

Cristina – There is a confusion as to who the real bad guys are. It shall all be cleared up in the next story! I promise.

Carby – My plans are nutty, some work. . . problem is taking all of the "details" of this story and remembering to stick them to the next story. All I am saying is that I am taking notes next time!

Amanda – Tête-à-tête means: face to face – I like using it, cos it sounds so cool. ;) LOL! I need a life. LOL!

Nikki – Yea and in this part a near-miss/near kiss LOL!! I think these two are going to explode eventually if some lovin' don't happen between them. Hehehe. So thou art another Cancer? Me too! July 3rd here. :D – Which I made up to be Mac's b-day. She acts like a cancer methinks! ;)

BiteBeccy – Killing Steele at this moment will not be productive to the story. So no I will NOT kill him. But, mac will hurt him ;)

Froggy – Yes, I am a tease! Confessions of love may come in tandem. Tht is all I am saying bout that ;)

Harmfan – Mac is out of sorts, the woman has been through hell in this story. Not as bad as Harm has but she's taking things hard. Thing with Mac is that she is underestimating Steele because he is such a bad lawyer and to her, she doesn't see him as intimidating. That will change in the next chappie.

Charmboy – See! I givethe and taketh away. ;) And look! You signed in! What is that? Twice in a row!! You go dood! LOL!! ;) They won't have the time to sleep together in this story. Sorry! :( Perhaps story 2. Muahahaa!!

Tina – Oh they'll talk a helluva lot more. And yea, kicking him where it hurts will be a huge possibility. ;)

JTB – Yea, Chris is total slime. And our fav Marine will see just how much slime he is. Let's just say not all of his marbles are in the same jar.


	14. With A OneTwo Punch

Alrighty people! One more before the ending which will end with a bang. ;) But, not to worry, keep hope alive, the next story will have some body heat moments, some fun convos, some moving convos, action, adventure and - well you get it:P

Enjoy! And yes, this is Mac kicking Maj Steele... literally. ;)

Jackie.

Thanks to: XBlueShadowX, Aimee5, Charmboy4, starryeyes10, Nikki, dansingwolf, jag4ever, lei, Jackia, EternalSleep, Cristina, Tina Frank, achaon, Abigaile, Hieros Gamos, froggy0319, joanoa, JadeAlmasy, SpaceMan546, dansingwolf, carbygirl , JAGJenni, Manda, starryeyes, BiteBeccy, ng59678, LtColDevilDog, martini, mizukimarr, jtbwriter, Macaroon, Lissie, n.k, Lt.jgMegAustin, cbw, dansingwolf, Apion, alix33, jnp, MacHarm4Ever, Tania, Macaroon, harmfan, Jagnut, Claire Vincent, Navy Babe, Nix, Martini. and anyone else I missed for the Feedback..

Part 14 - With A One-Two Punch.

July 15, 2005  
0130 Zulu  
The Fitness Zone  
Georgetown

(AN: Totally made up the Gym & Diner. ;))

Sweat was dripping off of Mac's toned body as she assaulted the punching bag. She always tried getting some time with the bag a couple times a week, preferably on weekends to knock the stress right out. Now, she envisioned Webb's face on the bag as she gave it a round-house kick. "Sonofabitch." She hissed out as her right fist connected with the bag. She gave it a jab, then a series of fast punches. She sat around her apartment for a little while after Webb and Harm had left until the need to take a crack at something overwhelmed her. "Friggin' son. Of. A. bitch!" She stated louder and went in for another punch when a familiar voice called from behind.

"Well, I sure hope that's not me you are punching, Colonel."

Mac spun around and found non other than Major Christopher Steele watching her. "No you aren't in the agency." She drew out and then resumed kicking 'Clay's' ass. She wanted to go with them and make sure no problems befell what Clay stated to be an 'easy mission.' But Clay had insisted that her disappearing would raise suspicion and Harm just had to agree. So here she was, still in Georgetown, pounding a punching bag.

"Agency? What agency?" He said, playing aloof as to who she was referring to. Chris didn't even bother concealing his smirk, but she wouldn't have noticed it anyway.

"CIA." She ground out hitting the bag with such a force that its mount rattled slightly. Chris, noting that she was having to stop because the bag was swaying so much, walked behind it and held it steady while she punched. "My ex, was CIA. . . the bastard." She said with a huff and took a punch so hard that it made Chris groan. Stopping, she glanced at him, her cheeks flushed a lovely shade of pink of embarrassment. "And I have NO idea why I just told you that."

Stepping backwards, Chris took a few swings at the bag. "Well I came to talk to you, actually."

"So you followed me." Mac suggested, it being the only plausible explanation as to how he knew where to find her.

Chris' laughter didn't amuse her at all, neither did his attempt at being cute with the smile he was giving her. "No, I work out here too. . ." He took two jabs at the bag. Well, now he worked out there, ten minutes ago his gym had been located in the other side of town, but Mac didn't need to know that little detail. "I saw you and just. . . Well it looked like. . ."

". . .Like I needed a friend?" She finished for him. Mac didn't want to dislike the Major simply because he was sent in to be Harm's replacement. They were military folk, used to the constant shuffling around of personal. There were some qualities of Chris that she liked, once or twice, when her walls had been down, she'd allowed herself to be civil to him and things were okay. Then there were things that she disliked, like his penchant to use his smooth talking, flyboy smiling ways to get out of things. Even if Harm came back to JAG, Chris would probably be allowed to stay and, for that reason, she needed things on an even keel. For her sake and for Harm's who would likely commiserate with a former flier. Yes, she definitely had to give Chris Steele a second chance, for the good moral in the office. "Good observation, but I am fine, really." She lied and gave a sharp kick to the bag, when he held it for her.

"Actually." Chris grunted, the kick winding him slightly. He took a few deep breaths, trying to keep himself in control as Mac chuckled. She would be a formidable fighter against him and the thought of sparring with her was tempting, but he pushed it aside. "Look, we started off on a bad foot and I just want to start over again."

"Really?" Well, at least they were on the same wavelength.

"Yes, ma'am. I know you started off on a bad foot with Commander Rabb, so. . .I figured if you two could work it out, so could you and I."

Consider the wavelength cut to pieces. His, seemingly innocent comment, had Mac whacking the bag again with a force greater than before. "Not that it should matter to you, but the Commander and I did _NOT_ get off on a bad foot. . ." That was true, but they didn't exactly get off on a good one either, not that Steele needed to know that.

"My apologies for presuming, ma'am." He resisted the need to roll his eyes and shoved down his ego. "I'm sorry, ma'am. . .Let's try again. I am Major Chris Steele, and you can call me Chris." Extending his gloved hand, he waited for a moment, hoping she would accept the 'new' introduction.

There was a small voice in the back of her mind telling her to that the Major needed to take a hike. That little voice wasn't one she could trust completely, it had led her astray several times. It was that little voice that led her to Clay instead of working things with Harm. She had a decision to make: hate him because she could, or learn to deal with him because she was better than that. "Lieutenant Colonel Sarah MacKenzie, you can call me Mac when we're not in the office. . . past that, Colonel is fine." She smacked his gloved hand as a friendly gesture, then squared herself off to continue punching again.

Chris smiled genuinely. He was finally going to get along with Sarah MacKenzie and hopefully get something out of it for his efforts. "Well that is a start." But, perhaps he was a bit over confident? "Have dinner with me tonight." Yep, smooth he was not.

Any bygones that Mac was attempting to put behind were thrown right out the window with that suggestion. "EXCUSE ME?"

"You do eat, don't you?" He smiled at her again, that seemingly charming smile that men used when they only wanted one thing from her - sex.

"You are inching into fraternization territory, Major. And I, for one, do not like it one bit." Her voice was low, and promising of doing bodily harm if he so much as smiled at her.

"And you haven't red lighted me. . ." He said with a grin which was quickly wiped away when he saw how angry Mac was. "I'm sorry, I was out of line. . . I just have an article thirty something and need all of the help I can get."

"If you even bothered skimming the UCMJ, you'd figure that it's called an Article 32, or did you get your law degree with food stamps?"

Okay, so this wasn't working. Sarah MacKenzie wasn't into the smooth type, or whatever type he thought he was being. "Look, I really need your help."

Mac took off her gloves and reached for her bottle of water. She took a long sip, rolling over the idea a few times. "Fine. . .Tomorrow 1900 sharp."

"Your place or mine?"

Mac snorted. "Neither. . .where do you live, Major?" She didn't know him well enough for either suggestion to be plausible. True, she hadn't known Harm very well either the first time she spent time alone with him in his apartment, but Harm was different. _God MacKenzie, you are losing it. _She scoffed at the notion. _No man compares to Harm._

"Alexandria."

Mac groaned audibly, that was where Clay lived as well. "Okay, there is a restaurant, a diner, it's usually pretty quiet, we can work there." They exchanged details on the diner's local and soon after, Mac was headed back home.

0230 Zulu  
Undisclosed Location  
Virginia

"What the hell is this place, Clay?" Harm asked then shoved a forkful of scrambled eggs into his mouth. He'd never really eaten with so much gusto, but, after they'd left Mac's he was hit with an insatiable hunger.

Clay grimaced. "Hungry, Rabb?"

Harm glared at him then took a long drink of water. "I've been out of it for over a week and can't even remember the last decent meal I had."

"This place is a bunker. It was created back during the cold war." He refilled Harm's glass of water and settled comfortably into a chair. The place was located in the woods somewhere off of I-95. Webb's father had it built just in case nukes directed at the States were every used so that his family had somewhere to go. "Dad figured we needed a place to hide, just in case. Apparently it was hip to have one in his day."

Harm nodded. "So, what's the plan?"

The map that Webb brought out was a bit more than just worst for wear. It looked as if it had been placed underground and recently dug up. "We go in here, I figure it'll be a ten mile hike, tops." He grabbed a Garmin 12, handheld GPS and, after turning it on, fiddled with some of the waypoints. "We'll use this, it should take us right to the planes. . .Then we call for backup to pick up the bad guys and get the planes out of there."

"And if they are not there?" Webb could have produced a picture of the planes parked by the Lincoln memorial and he _still_ wouldn't have believed him. It just wasn't that easy to move a plane and no one find out about it, especially the agency with the interests they had in the Aurora. "I'm not entirely convinced about this whole. . . scheme, Webb." But, the agent didn't answer, instead continued to play with the GPS. "In fact, I have a feeling you're setting me up."

"Setting you up?" Webb chuckled, as his fingers moved over the GPS' pad, trying to ensure the location was locked in. "You're funny, Rabb."

Harm laughed without amusement. "Funny, yea. . . sometimes." He took a long gulp of water and tossed back two pills which he'd set on the table before he began his meal. "But, if you or the agency is trying to set me up, beware. . .because I'm coming after you and anyone else I find that has tried to tarnish my name. . . I will kill you, all of you, make no bones about it." Never had he threatened someone with such determination, but he'd already lost so much to allow them to take more. This wasn't just about the months he'd stayed in capture, though that is where his anger stemmed from. It stretched from that and to the friends that had been hurt because of the fact. It was about him, Mac and that new chance they got on Christmas, one that may never be worked on.

Webb's head snapped up, he glanced at Harm with his mouth open, slightly confused as to how the conversation had steered itself that way. "Are you making a threat, Rabb?"

"No. . .I'm making a promise."

July 15, 2005  
1850 Zulu  
The Diner  
Alexandria

It was almost difficult for Major Steele to hide his giddiness at going on a 'date' with Sarah MacKenzie. Well, it wasn't a date to her, but he was hoping to have her warm up a bit more to him. He maneuvered his black Escalade into a spot right across from her Corvette. "Hmmm, that's not a bad idea." He said, when a malicious intent regarding the Colonel's vehicle passed through his mind. With a new determination, he pulled out a small kit from his glove box. He made quick work of the Vette's alarm and lock system, then popped the hood. The car was in need of a tune up, "Perfect." It wouldn't be too odd if a few things just _happened_ to go wrong. Taking out a knife, he made a cut on the timing belt, enough to cause it to break once the sprockets in the engine started rotating. She'd be going home with him tonight.

Mac wasn't too surprised to see Chris walking up a few minutes before 1900. He was a Marine, after all and their timing, for the most part, was impeccable. She was determined to work with him and hopefully, get her mind off of whatever Harm and Clay were doing. Before they'd left, Clay had promised it wouldn't be dangerous, they were just going to scope the site and then call for back up. She held Clay to his word that Harm would not be in danger but knew that with Clayton Webb, things seldom went as planned.

"Hello ma'am." He said with his usually charming (read: nauseating) smile. He sat across from her in the booth and settled in comfortably. "Been waiting long?"

Mac shook her head. "A bit, but it's fine. I need to get out of the house today." With a sigh she glanced out the windows as her mind went to the man that held her affections. What were Clay and Harm doing right now? She wondered as her mind conjured up complex scenarios that would make James Bond run for his life. Harm wasn't meant to be anywhere near the CIA and neither was she. So, why then, did they always get mixed up with their ludicrous situations? And what the hell was Steele saying? "Excuse me?"

"I said your mind seems to be a million miles away." It was clear to him that that suave approach wasn't going to work on her, so he was trying for sensitive – something he really wasn't familiar with. "Not to be presumptuous, but you're thinking about Commander Rabb, aren't you?"

Mac's face turned at least three different shades of red as he waited for her to answer. Her mouth opened a closed a few times, but words couldn't formulate. Did Chris know about Harm? No, course not, there was nothing to fear, no reason for him to think that Harm was alive. Right? Therefore, there was no reason to lie. "I ah. . .yes." She grabbed the glass of water and took a long gulp. "He was. . .very dear to me. I'll never forget him." _God please, I'll sell my soul for him to be safe._

"I've lost friends before, Colonel. . .You need to let go, else you'll never move on." Right, sensitive, caring, that's what she needed not a man trying to seduce her with every move.

Mac nodded. "Yes, I know. . .but we had a history. . .It's very difficult. . .but let's talk about something else. I don't want my mind on the Commander tonight." No, course she didn't. Though Mac was good at hiding certain things, she was afraid that, at any moment, something would spill or she would unmask an expression that would tip him off. She didn't need that. Harm didn't need that. As for Webb, who cares what he needed? "So, Commander Roberts is wiping the floor with your six I hear?"

Chris snorted, he wasn't very proud of that nor the fact that Roberts had been taking it upon himself to watch out for Mac. "Yes, ma'am. . .I have to admit, I underestimated him."

"Out of the office and in civvies, call me Mac."

"Call me Chris, then." He couldn't help the smug grin that appeared on his face. He was starting to blow cracks in her façade, good. Maybe, by the end of the night, Sarah MacKenzie would be eating out of his hand.

1900 Zulu  
CIA Headquarters  
Langley, Virginia

Raymond Levine sat at the end of a long conference table among which sat those that had been assisting him with the whole Aurora debacle. A large picture of Harm showed up on the overhead, projecting onto a screen. "Commander Harmon Rabb Jr. . .When we started the program for the Aurora, he was trained to fly the plane along with this man Andy Watson." Andy's picture showed up right next to Harm's in some sort of split screen. "Mr. Watson and Commander Rabb went down somewhere over Canada. Watson was murdered and found with the Commander's weapon. We believe the Commander is alive and well and headed this way."

One of the men named Alex Hendricks stood up. "Mr. Levine, tell us something we don't know."

"Clayton Webb is missing as well." That got the attention of the whole room. Within the spy community, Webb was very well known. He was basically as stable in the CIA. "It's possible that the Aurora's did not blow up after all and Mr. Webb and Commander Rabb have joined forces to sell them to the highest bidder."

Another CIA agent spoke up. "But, Clay was on our side."

"Was, being the operative word. . ." With a dramatic sigh, Levine stood up and began pacing around the table. "Many have been on our side and turned for money or because they have grievances with the agency."

Alex agreed. "Clayton had been out of sorts with the agency when he failed his mission against Agent Tanveer." He followed Levine's movements. "What do you want us to do?"

"I've managed to use disinformation in order to trap Clayton Webb, which, hopefully will be with Commander Rabb. . .He believes the Aurora's are located within the Appalachian mountains. The fool left here with an agency GPS which we added a tracking chip to. We can track him anywhere on this planet. . . Furthurmore, He requested for a team to standby in case he needs assistance and we're going to give them the assistance they really need. . ." Levine walked behind his chair and placed his hands on the back of it, his face fell as he relayed the final details of their mission. "Kill them both."

2103 Zulu  
The Diner  
Alexandria

Through the first part of their 'working dinner,' Mac wanted to shoot Chris. Friendly chit chat was put aside as she attempted to help with the Article 32. His notes were a complete mess. He didn't know his client's rank or the fact that he'd been demoted for larceny. "Seriously, how _did_ you pass the bar?" He finally asked when he stupidly asked her about a DDO charge that had to do with _another_ client.

Right around the time, Chris was close to begging for help from the agency. He figure it would be a simple dinner date and, with a bit of charm, the conversation could sway into a more personal level. No dice, the woman even made him go out to his car and pick up files on the case. "Uh, I get nervous, really nervous." Okay, that sounded good, so he went with that. "See, I was a great pilot and after an injury I didn't think I had much left to offer the Corps so, I ah. .de-decided to join JAG." He smiled slightly, his face turning red from personal embarrassment of lying so badly. Damnit, what happened to his self-assurance, his ability to think quickly on his feet. Was Mac doing all of this to him? Was he becoming flustered because of her? As he sat there, formulating things to say, his fingers began tapping on the table. "And, to be honest, this is the first case I've tried. . . there I said it." Well, that part wasn't a lie.

Mac reached a hand across and placed it over his, halting his tapping which was working on her last nerve. Chris stared up at her in awe as he felt a zing of electricity at her touch. The electricity, however, was _not_ reciprocated. She smiled slightly and took a deep breath. "Look, you're supposed to be my. . .uh. . .partner or whatever." She said quickly, ignoring the pang of guilt of putting Chris in Harm's rightful place. "So, as such, I am inclined to help you out. . .I'll sit second chair on this one with you."

"Second chair?" He had to search deep within the realms of his mind to conjure up the meaning for that term. "Uh, yea. That would be great." He turned his hand over to clasp Mac's, but she had pulled away once he did and tapped him on the forearm. He could swear he saw a flirtatious grin grace her features. He was wrong.

An hour and a conversation later, about the only thing they both could relate with– the US Marine Corps, Mac was itching to head home and, hopefully, get some much needed sleep. At least, thanks to Harm, there would be no _old friend_ in the apartment, no vodka bottle to torture her. "Thanks Chris." Mac said with a smile as he'd walked her outside and to the Vette.

Chris smiled. "I think I should be the one thanking you."

"See you on Monday." Pressing the transmitter to her alarm, the device was switched off and the automatic car doors opened. She slid in behind the wheel and took a look at herself in the mirror. "Ugh, I need sleep."

Chris walked across the lot to his Escalade and slipped in behind the wheel. He waited for a few moments, pretending to put extra notes on his case as he heard Mac's car start and just as quickly die. He watched from the rearview mirror as she attempted to start the car again, a sick smile spreading on his lips when the car wouldn't turn over.

Mac took a deep breath. "Damnit, I don't need this!" Through her mirror, she saw Chris' car still parked in the lot, making no attempts to move right away. '_No way, I'm a Marine, I can handle this without help.'_ She pressed the button for the hood, then went around to check on the engine. '_Not like you know what you're doing MacKenzie!'_ A little voice inside said, a voice that was right. Mechanically able she was not. "Fine!" She headed across the lot and knocked on Chris' window, 'starling' him. "Hey, my car won't start, you wouldn't be able to take a look would you?"

"Sure." Chris hopped out of his car, trying to conceal the evil smirk on his lips. He grabbed a flashlight, followed her to the Vette and 'examined' the engine. He gave it a once order and then found what the 'problem' was. "Ah. . .timing belt broke." He reached in for the belt, an showed her the section where it had snapped in half. "Vette's have a special one, you'll have to order it straight from the dealer. I doubt they'll be open until Monday."

Mac shook her head. "Great. . .thanks though." She pulled out a cell phone and punched in the speed ail number for AAA.

His eyes went wide with worry, why was she using a phone? "W-wha-what are you doing?"

"Calling triple A for a tow truck, I am not leaving my baby here." She relayed the information to the operator and confirmed her location before turning to Chris. "They'll be here in thirty. I'll have them take me home."

Chris nodded, in defeat. This could _not_ be happening! Quickly, he began formulating a plan, there had to be a way. And as usual, there was. "Actually, I have a better idea for you. . . Have them two the car to dealer, they have this overnight drop off where towing companies can leave the car. That way they can fix it tomorrow and you don't have to waste your day waiting for another tow to the dealer."

Mac shrugged, it was a good idea, one that she didn't think about. Well, she didn't even know about that whole 'overnight car drop off', but it sounded like a good idea save one _small_ detail. "And how am I to get home?"

"I'll be your taxi." He offered with a charming smile and waved off her attempts to disapprove. "I won't take no for an answer, besides I owe you for all of your help." And that, my friends, was that.

With a sigh, Mac conceded. They'd waited for the tow, who confirmed Chris' story about the overnight drop off, in fact, he would have done that anyway after dropping Mac at home. Once the flatbed was on it's way, she and Chris headed towards Georgetown. The whole ride had been a friendly one, they'd been discussing more Marine Corps moments, sharing the horrors of boot camp and the crucible until they arrived at her building. Mac turned to the side smiling slightly at Chris as she fumbled for the words to get out. "Look, I am sorry for being so. . . bitchy with you. . .I have a thing or two to learn about getting along with others." She smiled brightly, Harm would be happy to hear her trying to change and be a better person.

Chris took the apology with stride. "I didn't make it easy either. . .I tend to forget that my looks don't get me everywhere."

Mac laughed, how conceited could the man get? She was quickly starting to doubt her previous, kind approach to the Major. "Yea, well. . .I'm sure you'll find a woman to suit your needs, Major. Maybe you need a fellow Marine to put your six in order . .Have a good weekend." As she made to get out of the truck, she felt his hand wrap around her arm and pull her back in. It wasn't forceful, but enough for Mac to get her guards up.

He smiled reassuringly to her, attempting to sway the beating he so richly deserved. "Sorry, I just. . . What if I've found the right woman? What should I do to win her heart?" The look in his eyes changed completely. Nothing friendly came from it, but, in the darkness of his car, she couldn't tell.

"Don't ever lie." She said flatly, recalling her relationship with Webb and the disaster that had become. "And make sure you tell her how you feel before it's too late." That reference was for Harm. "And don't let her slip away."

Chris grinned. "I'd hope you'd say that." In a movement so swift that not even Mac could counter, he grabbed her wrist and pulled her to him. His mouth was on hers so fast, Mac barely knew what hit her. What she did know was that this was _not_ something that she wanted; not from him.

She put one hand against his chest, pushing him back roughly as she attempted to remove his lips which were trying to claim her neck. "Back off!" He grabbed that hand and held it with a force to strong, she knew there would be a bruise. "No! I said, back off." Unable to use her hands or get her feet up over the center counsel, she brought her head down hard against his.

But, Chris was too well trained, he didn't feel it. "You bitch!" He reached for her again, but that moment between her striking and him reaching, she'd managed to lean against the door and bring one leg up, giving him a solid kick a bit too close to his groin. THAT he did feel. "OWW!" For good measure, she wound her hand back and gave him a hard jab, breaking his nose. Though he'd locked the car doors, Mac was too quick, she already had it open and was halfway out. "Get back here!" He yelled at her, pawing through the air, but his eyes were tearing so much, he couldn't see. He did, however, hear the clicking of a pistol, a small one that she usually carried everywhere she went. "Damnit!" Barely able to see, he put the car in gear and sped away from her building.

She kept the weapon pointed at his vehicle as he took a sharp left turn, maneuvering out of her neighborhood. "Oh God." Mac was shaking, her breath hitching from both shock and exertion. Angrily, she paced in front of the building, intent on ending the Major's career. "You'd better brace yourself, because I am brining you up on charges and I will _personally _make sure your ass goes to Groton Brig for a LONG fucking time."

-

Navy Babe – LOL! I decided to have Mac actually COOK for once. I think it's more of a fanfic thing anyway that she doesn't cook. Woman's gotta cook – or reheat – or nuke – else she'd be broke with all the take out and deliverys! LOL!

Nix – So how was the Webb bashing on this part? I kinda like Harm's promise of bodily harm. LOL! GO Harm!

Ltjg – I need him! For another something. . .um, don't want to give it away. ;)

Tina – All the reasons more to hate Webb are good! Trust me! Else he'll sneak in and be loveable or something :gag:

Nikki – Cancers just rock! We should run the world, it would be much more productive. ;) God help us all LOL!

NK – Hey! He's mine! I wrote him that way! I got dibs… umm well, after Mac that is:D

Martini – I am not THAT bad, I assure you, ask anyone. .. well, cept my ex….ex's… whatever. ;) Don't worry, there will be a body heat section in the next story. Hehehe.

Laura – Thanks! As long as I have nothing better to do, I'll write more. As long as I can't fall asleep until 4am, I'll write more. As long as. . . well, I like writing so I'll just write more. ;)

Jtb – Harm has his dumb moments from time to time, God love him. He sees the whole planes thing as something unfinished. Poor guy. He should be thinking only of Mac and screw the planes. And actually 1 more cliffy, this wasn't really much of one.

Charmboy – YES! I can sleep better tonight, Charmboy has forgiven me;) Sarah MacKenzie bitch slapping Harm? Could be kinky! Hehehe

Harmfan – The answer was no, but don't count her out yet. Mac's sneaky. ;)

Froggy – Yep, them near kisses are wonderful aren't they? He's already gone, no kissing… I thought about it, but talk about AWKWARD. In front of Webb? Ewww… no.

Beccy – Webb's gonna have a problem coming soon. That's all I am going to say. ;)


	15. Fade To Black

Heheh, last chapter for this one, expect "Fully Engaged" story 2 to start next week. I am going to put more time into it if possible. I have about 5 chapters written and at least 4 more mapped out. It may take a while to post because I have to drag things from THIS story into it. At least I don't feel painted into a corner, which I have in other stories. I am surprised these flowed so well. Thanks for the people who stuck with it. And, at the bottom you'll see a few lines from "Fully Engaged" pay attention to them, it will give you a hint as to what happened at the end of this one. At least, I've been giving hints all along this story, if people read authors notes or my little tidbits. Past that, I am a shipper guys, I know I like to take the long and bumpy road to get to the point, but it's fun. ;)

Enjoy! Have a good weekend when we get there. :)

Jackie.

PS: If you have an AOL (AOheLL) address and have been e-mailing me to get the PW for my site and didn't get nada back, well, guess what? AOL bounces my e-mail. Try e-mailing here - or had at least 25 e-mails come back this week, it's getting annoying:P

PS2: Totally don't want to get ahead of myself, but if my cards get played right, there might be a third story. Someone had given me a few ideas which I didn't want to write about, but, seeing as the lose ends seem to remain that way on the show, might be good to tie a few up and bring back an ultimate JAG villain. We'll see. :)

Thanks to: XBlueShadowX, Aimee5, Charmboy4, starryeyes10, Nikki, dansingwolf, jag4ever, lei, Jackia, EternalSleep, Cristina, Tina Frank, achaon, Abigaile, Hieros Gamos, froggy0319, joanoa, JadeAlmasy, SpaceMan546, dansingwolf, carbygirl , JAGJenni, Manda, starryeyes, BiteBeccy, ng59678, LtColDevilDog, martini, mizukimarr, jtbwriter, Macaroon, Lissie, n.k, Lt.jgMegAustin, cbw, dansingwolf, Apion, alix33, jnp, MacHarm4Ever, Tania, Macaroon, harmfan, Jagnut, Claire Vincent, Navy Babe, Nix, Martini, jaggurl, Laura, CoolCat, and anyone else I missed for the Feedback..

Part 15 – Fade To Black  
_"You've got a thousand wounds to heal. You gotta stop thinking nothing's for real. Electric shock won't bring you back. You're fading baby  
You fade to black." – Zeromancer "Fade To Black"_

July 16, 2005  
1510 Zulu  
Somewhere In The Appalachian Mountains  
Virginia

"Wait, Webb. . .we need to stop." Harm said as he took a seat by the creek. He pulled out of his backpack a bandana which he dipped in the cool water then used to moisten his face. From the front pocket of his pack, he took out a pill bottle, spilled out two small purple pills and downed them with a gulp from his canteen. They'd been hiking since the early morning figuring it was less conspicuous than going in with any other mode of transportation. The objective was to follow the coordinates with the GPS, find out if the planes really were there and then call for back up. The only weapons, a 45mm each, were inside of their packs, concealed from plain view. To the onlooker they were to seem like two _friends _on a hike, through the mountains. Hopefully the guns would never have to be pulled out.

Webb rose an eyebrow of interest on Harm's inability to resist mush physical strain. Every once and a while they would have to stop to allow him to catch his breath. "You know? I thought you military people were supposed to be fit."

"You've gotta be kidding me, right?" Harm said glaring daggers at Webb. He was never too sure if Webb just had stupid moments or if he said things because he liked have people pissed off at him. "I was locked up for almost five months. I've been in bed for nearly two weeks. . .It's a miracle I made it this far, okay? Cut me some slack."

"Okay, okay. You don't have to bite my head off, Rabb." He raised his hands in surrender and picked his own rock to sit on. "Look, Harm. I know you and I are. . . in a bad place. . ."

That comment was awarded with Harm's mirthless laughter. "Bad place?" The laughs died down as Harm came to his feet. "Look, just don't talk to me for the rest of this trip unless you need to. You aren't good to me if I beat you into a blood pulp."

Webb nodded. "I deserve that, I know. . . But you need to know that I never meant to hurt Sarah. It's the opposite, I was trying to protect her."

"Protect her?" That was the most ridiculous thing anyone could have told Harm. He still couldn't get why a man, who obviously wanted to conquer Mac, could take her into hell and come out smelling like roses. "When you take a woman you supposedly _care_ for into a hot zone, it's not called protection, Clay. . ." Anger was rising up into him with each breath, so much that it was hard to bring under control. "You say you did it to protect her? Then where the hell were you when Sadik Fahd paid her a visit, huh?"

Webb shoved Harm back, or at least attempted to, but the man's six foot four frame had become an immovable object. "Well, what about you, Rabb? Where the hell were you when that happened? I mean, you have to play hero all the time. Why couldn't you save her then?" He moved closer to Harm, standing just a few inches away and trying to intimidate him. "You know what I think? I think you don't have the guts to stand up and be a man. . . Sarah _scares_ you. . .She turns you to shit and you can't deal with it. . .Sad part is that she actually wants you. . .And you aren't man enough to bed a needy female Marine!"

Harm rose his fist and struck Webb on the face, high up on his cheekbone. It wasn't another broken nose, which Webb deserved, but it would, at least, leave a mark. He grabbed Webb by the shirt, tempted to strike again, but instead lifted him closer. "How could we ever have considered you a friend? . . I know she hurt you and I am glad she did. Because Mac doesn't deserve a two-faced, lying bastard like you, Webb." He released his grip on the agent, then pulled out the canteen for another long gulp. "Get your ass in gear. I want to get home as soon as possible."

They set off hiking a few minutes later, but this time Harm was leading them through. He forced his body to continue, though it pleaded with him to stop and rest. About an hour into the walk, he had to oblige. He took another pull from the canteen and swallowed another set of pills.

Webb frowned at that. No matter what had occurred, Rabb was a friend once and he didn't like seeing him that way. "What are all the pills for?"

Harm was tempted not to answer, but he figured a little conversation was better than that horrible silence. "The ones I took an hour ago are anti-opiates. I have to take them for about two months to fully detox." He took another sip of water and spit some out as he rinsed his mouth from the odd taste of the pills. "These I just took are like some sort of a multivitamin to help recover from the nutrients that opiates leach out."

"You know, I don't think I could have lived through what you did." He took a seat on a log next to Harm. Of all the things he's dealt with, the torture wasn't the worst. The worst was knowing that it could happen again in his line of work. Hearing Harm relive it all the night before was slightly unnerving. Though he seemed to have kept cool about it, inside he was anything but. "I know we're trained for that, but. . .no training in the world could prepare you."

All of the pilot training courses in the world couldn't quite prepare Harm either. Sure, he'd been in some sort of personal hell once. But, what Temir did to him was unfathomable. "Us pilots are trained for it too. . .I am ashamed to say it but. . .I've never prayed so much for death."

"At least you didn't have her in another room waiting on you."

There was that; and it was the only thing positive about Harm's whole experience – Mac was safe. "Of which I thank God for. . .I would have cracked just to keep her safe."

Even after everything he'd put her through, Clay wanted to make her love him again. Not that he was convinced that she was fully in love with him, and that was the problem. Sure, she said she loved him, but was she in love? No. He knew full well that she was in love with another. "How are you and Mac?"

"Meaning?"

"Worked it out yet?"

Whatever friendly moment they had just had was crushed before Harm's eyes. Webb was fishing for information, he was certain of it and Harm didn't like it one bit. "What is it that you think you know, Webb?"

He knew that whatever he was about to say was in favor of Harm and Mac being together. But if that is what it took to put him in Mac's good graces, then he would try anything. He didn't like her hating him. "I know that she hurt for your loss more than she ever would have for mine. . . Get your head out of your ass, Rabb. . . She loves you. Moreover, she's in love with you and. . . it is my opinion that she's always been. . .and YOU, my friend, are in love with her too."

"Look at lot has happened, Webb. . ." He said it with such finality that it was as if he almost believed that things were never going to happen for them. "Too much damned water under the proverbial bridge."

With an exasperated sigh, Webb stood up and began searching around the ground. "I need a rock, or stick or something."

Harm chuckled, slightly amused at how erratic Clay was behaving. "You looking to hit me over the head or something?"

"Whatever it takes to knock some sense into you."

"This _thing_ you've lead us on isn't helping Mac and I you know?" Harm stood and grabbed the GPS. "C'mon let's get going, according to this thing we're almost there."

Clay blocked Harm's retreat. "You have had chances upon chances, Harm. . ." When Harm tried to protest, he shoved him backwards this time managing to move the six foot four frame. "Consider yourself lucky that you got another chance because you could have died out there without ever seeing her again."

"I do, now let's get going."

"No, you don't know." Webb insisted, getting Harm's attention. "She WAITED for you. . . People, now a days, don't wait for anything. And against her better judgment, and everyone trying to convince her that you were gone for good, she WAITED and BELIEVED. . .So don't be a fool. . . She needs. . " The sounds of a gunshots, cut his words short. "What was that?"

"Gunshots." Harm reached inside his backpack and took out his weapon. "I think we might want to have this convo another time, don't you?"

Taking out his own weapon, Webb agreed. "Good plan."

"This way." Harm lead them through the forest, staying low as they followed the sound of disembodied voices. There was another set of gun shots ringing out in the humid air. They followed the sound to find two men. One of them was holding the weapon towards a makeshift target. The other was attempting to speak over a sattelite phone. Taking a look at the GPS, Harm found that the coordinates were missing. He was going to attempt asking Webb about the strange occurrence when another man came behind them.

"Well, well, Commander, Mr. Webb, nice of you to drop by." The man, Alex Hendricks, Harm was familiar with, they'd met once when he was first training to fly the Aurora. Before leaving the CIA, Harm found that Alex had been moved up to field operative.

Clay shook his head in disgust. "Alex, nice meeting you here."

Alex pointed a 45mm and motioned for Harm and Webb to drop their guns which he picked up and tucked into his pants. "Move." He motioned for them to move forward and followed behind as they walked to where the other two men were. "You know, Commander, it's been hell trying to find you. The higher ups will be pleased."

"Well, sorry I couldn't make it easier for you." Harm joked sarcastically then glared over at Webb. "In and out, huh? Remind me to shoot you later."

"Will you shut up, Rabb?" Webb yelled at Harm and sighed exasperatedly. "The planes aren't anywhere near here are they, Alex?"

Alex shook his head. "We don't know where they are. . . But you are so fickle you'll believe anything. . . We planted that file on Kershaw when one of our men was sent to kill him. And you took the bait, hook, line and sinker."

"Well, you didn't do too much homework on this. . .Backup will be here in any moment."

Alex laughed with amusement. "What back up? . . . Oh, the one you requested to standby?" Laughing again, he pointed to the other two men. "You are looking at them."

"CIA never got my message." Webb said with a sigh, then glanced over at Harm. "I'm sorry about this."

"Sorry? We're about to be killed and all you can do is say you're sorry?" Harm said loudly. "Shoot him first, will ya?" He requested from Alex.

"At least we're merciful about it. Normally the government doesn't treat two traitors like you so kindly. . . Webb, how could you turn? Damnit your family's been in the agency since the beginning. . .How could you?" One of the other men yelled, exasperated by the so called – super agent's – tactics.

Webb shook his head and attempted to vehemently deny the accusation. "Turned? I haven't turned, you have. . . Damnit you're being used!"

"Shut up!" Alex motioned at one of the two men and pointed at the satellite phone. "Call the boss, let them know that Rabb is now out of the way." Then men did as told, but, for some unforeseen reason, the sat phone wasn't working. "Gimme that!" In trying to take the phone away from one of the two men, a small brawl ensued. During which, they'd forgotten about Harm and Webb.

As if planned, both Harm and Webb rushed the men, hoping to grab a weapon or at least hurt one of them so badly they could have the upper hand. One of the men hit his head against a rock and was instantly out cold. Alex grabbed Harm, placing a hard punch on his abdomen, winding Harm who wasn't prepared for too much physical exertion. The other man, Webb had managed to subdue. As he made to turn around and help Harm, a shot rang out and then two others. Blood pooled from the bodies, turning the rocky ground crimson. . .

"Harm!" Miles away, as she sat in the office trying to get on with her day, Mac felt it – something was wrong. Harm was hurt.

**TO BE CONTINUED. . .**

-

From Story 2 – "Fully Engaged"

_General Creswell followed Mac through the corridors of Bethesda. "Colonel, will you tell me what in the hell is going on?"_

_"You won't believe me, unless I show you, sir." She said and swiftly wound up heading towards the ICU._  
-

_"Commander Turner, I think I've lost my mind."_

_"Why's that Comman. . ." Glancing to the side, Sturgis felt a sudden wave of vertigo as he stared in disbelief. "Bud, are you seeing what I am seeing?"_

-

_"He attacked you!. . ." He yelled so loudly that, had it been a regular work day, the bullpen would have been stopped dead in it's tracks. "He's a dead man!"_

_Mac waved off his attempts at gallantry. "Oh, don't worry about it. . .after the place that I kicked him, I doubt there's much man left to kill." She grinned slightly, it had been a cheap shot, but there weren't many self-help books or videos in the art of brawling in an automobile._

-

_Whatever Major Chris Steele expected, this wasn't it. He'd walked into the mansion, headed straight to Ray's office and, the moment he walked in: WHAM! "What the HELL was that for?" He yelled at Ray who'd slapped him straight across the face with a force that Chris didn't know the older man had._

-

_Chris' jaw tightened, no it couldn't be. Rabb couldn't be alive, it was just insane. "What do you want me to do?"_

_"Go on with things as planned. . .if you find him. . .kill him."_

-

_"How'd you learn all of this, Bud?" Sturgis stood to the side, admiring how the young Lt. Commander's computer knowledge had created two fake IDs._

-

_Tentatively, she placed a hand on his back, noting the way he tensed at her touch. With a frown, she remembered the scars, ones that had healed, but were probably still painful. "Do they still hurt? The scars?"_

_"I think they always will in some way." It wasn't the physical pain, that he knew he could get through, it was the emotional ones that still plagued him. When he closed his eyes, his mind had days of throwing him back into his hell. When would he feel safe in his own skin?_

-

_They stared at each other, neither wanting to go in just yet. "I know, Mac. . . Believe me, I know." He leaned forward and. . ._

-  
Joanoa – LOL! Spooks suck! At least, I haven't found one I like passed Bond, James Bond. ;) But that's cos when I was little I had a Roger Moore thing, hell, I still do. :D :swoon;)

BiteBeccy :Gasp: Kill Steele! Jeez, repeat after me – THERAPY. Side note: has anyone noticed that therapist breaks into The Rapist. ;) Okay, so ignore therapy, just take deep breaths! He may die yet:D

Foxy – Well Hello! Long time! Took a Fanfiction sabbatical huh? I did too before this one, I needed a break. Welcome back though! BTW – When you writing again? Do I need to start my threats? I have a sick mind, I can come up with good ones! BTW – I ramble too, so I don't mind really. ;)

Laura – I don't think hitting him over the head with a 2x4 would teach the motherFer.

Harmfan – It's a gift. ;) Webb set Harm up without even realizing he was being set up. Our spookboy isn't too bright sometimes. I attribute it to getting heartbroken by Mac. ;) LOL! Rides not over yet, this is just that point where you can catch your breath. Well, or lose your breath. Whatever, but there's more.  And it's gonna get fun. Course ,my ideas of fun are odd, but… well whatever. ;)

Charmboy – Hey! Your laziness is contagious! I did the same day the other day. Grrr! About the pressing charges, well. . .uh, you'll see. ;)

Tina – Spookboy is a dork. Thank god he is just a char on a show, can you imagine if he actually worked for the CIA?


End file.
